Kismet
by SamhainDancer
Summary: Pepper is just fine entering 7th year with the social standing of a mouse, but her best friend Simon isn't. When his bucket list and a party land them on James Potter's radar, she knows their time in social obscurity is over. But she's not going down without a fight, and she doesn't care what Potter says; she's Hogwarts' best dueler. Also, James Potter knows way too many spices.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**It's Just A Party**

* * *

"What do I wear?"

"I dunno—that?"

"Are you _kidding_ me? That makes me look fat!"

"Then why'd you ask?"

"You're so bleeding useless!"

"Don't get pissy with me—you're the one that's been staring at your wardrobe for literally the past hour!"

"If you'd actually been helpful, I would have been ready fifty-seven minutes ago!"

Pepper Hastings let out a frustrated groan as she flopped back down onto her best friend's bed. Not for the first time since having arrived at Simon's house more than an hour previously, Pepper seriously considered Death By Smothering: Pillow Edition. She just wasn't too sure whom she was going to kill; Simon or herself. Propping herself up on her forearms, she watched as Simon continued to scour the shirts in his closet, occasionally taking one out and sniffing it in his frantic search.

"How about this one?" Simon asked anxiously, holding up a blue shirt to his chest. Pepper made a face at it.

"I thought I told you to _Incendio_ that one last term. I've never seen a more horrid collar,"

Simon pouted, sticking the shirt back into the wardrobe. "You know, ever since The Return, you're sassier than usual. A little too fiery for my taste,"

Pepper rolled her eyes. After spending the last six years as a brunette, her sister had forced a few potions into her hair and practically water boarded her to return her hair to it's natural ginger color. She was still getting used to it; the event, dubbed as The Return to Ginger by Simon, had been all Ajowan's idea, and none of her own. Ajowan, or as she preferred, AJ, had given her youngest sister a makeover. At the time of the makeover, Pepper had thought it would have been worth it; AJ had promised that Pepper wouldn't have to apologize for her role in their biggest fight yet if she allowed her to make her over. Prideful Pepper had considered AJ foolish; a day as her older sister's doll was better than swallowing her pride.

Now she wasn't so sure.

Ever since Pepper could talk, she had always looked for an excuse to change her hair color, but her mother, a proud ginger, had never allowed it. Of their mother's five children, only Pepper had inherited her ginger locks, something Pepper swore was proof the universe had a vile sense of humor. Because, of all of her mother's five children, only Pepper was biracial, and therefore it was only on her that ginger curls were particularly er, _eye-catching. _

None of her sisters had had to deal with the same level of jeering and teasing that Pepper had thrust upon her at muggle primary school. Pepper had a different dad than her other siblings (not that she _had_ him in any sort of sense of the word) and unlike her siblings, she had mocha skin that contrasted brilliantly with her red-orange hair. Then, when she'd arrived at Hogwarts, she'd been unfortunate enough to start her first year alongside Roxanne Weasley.

Roxanne Weasley, brilliant, beautiful, and bold was also biracial like her, but her curls were a considerably less rare black-brown. For whatever reason, students had always mistaken Pepper for Roxanne (because apparently, Red=Weasley) and once people realized that she wasn't in fact a Weasley, she'd been accused of trying to be a Weasley. The teasing had been absolutely merciless.

The ginger hair had got gone pretty quickly after that. Away at Hogwarts, her mother hadn't been able to stop her, and as a Squib, she hadn't been able to change it back. Until AJ, that was.

"Stupid bint," Pepper murmured under her breath, thinking of her older sister.

"Huh?" Simon asked.

With a groan, Pepper pushed herself off of Simon's bed and made her way over to the wardrobe. Simon was a very particular seventeen-year-old; one of his particularities included color-coding all of clothes. He claimed it was so that he wouldn't buy too many things of the same color, but that didn't explain why the books on his shelf were also color-coordinated and then alphabetized, nor why he had a separate sock and underwear drawer, or why he gave special importance to the number three.

Simon's parents wrote him off as an eccentric; Pepper had explained to him he was just a little OCD. OCD, to his pureblood parents, was nothing more than silly muggle oddness and therefore to be ignored.

As annoyed as she was that Simon was getting so worked up about what to wear, she also knew that a part of him couldn't help his rising anxiety, and so she snapped her fingers in three consecutive snaps to focus him.

"This, this, and this," She told him, handing him a pair of his best jeans in a dark color and then a light cotton t-shirt and a pair of casual Oxfords. She took her place back on the bed, kicking up her socked feet.

Simon, who had been standing in his Harry Potter lightning bolt boxers (he swore they were lucky; she believed him) for the last hour, quickly put them on.

"Are you trying to get laid or something?" asked Pepper, flipping half-heartedly through Simon's copy of _Quidditch Weekly._

"_Sorry_?" asked Simon. She looked up at him and grinned, seeing how flustered he was. His curly brown hair was even in disarray; he must have reflexively run a hand through it.

"Well, you're putting paramount importance on your outfit—seriously, it's never taken this long for you to get ready, and you're wearing your lucky boxers," said Pepper. "Evidence points to: you're trying to impress someone,"

Simon groaned as he shoved the hem of his t-shirt into his pants; when Pepper shook her head, he groaned, unhappily letting the t-shirt rest against his belt buckle.

"Don't 'evidence' me, Hastings," said Simon, doing a bad job at trying to sound intimidating. "And if you must know, I wouldn't mind losing my virginity before leaving Hogwarts, so no—_shut your face!_"

Pepper had dissolved into a fit of laughter, and she quickly shook her head. Simon's face was red enough to rival her curly locks.

"No, no! I'm not laughing at you! Have you taken a look at this?" she asked, crawling across the bed to the edge closest to him. She held out the magazine, and it took only a quick glance for Simon to join in her laughter.

"_James Sirius Potter led his team to victory and scored more than just the House Cup—he has also captured the hearts of witches (and some wizards!) across the nation_'—Merlin, I'm officially ending my subscription. They used to publish _noteworthy_ news," said Simon, reaching up to fix his glasses. "He might have won the Cup, but he called so many bad plays during the first hour of the match!"

Pepper had to agree with him. James Potter was a classmate of theirs, and a very famous one at that. He had been famous since birth, as the first son of two war heroes: Harry 'Chosen One' Potter and Ginny 'Holyhead Harpy' Weasley. Fate had served him an enviable hand: he had fame, wealth, good looks, and most of Hogwarts wrapped around his little finger. He was something of a playboy, though recently he'd turned a new leaf, as he was with the most popular girl in school since Victoire Weasley and Pepper's own sister AJ: Callista Brown.

Callista Brown was the type of girl that had spun gold instead of hair and sapphires where mere mortals had eyes. Boys liked to say that her legs went on for miles—but Pepper was pretty sure that Callista was her very same height, and Pepper wasn't taller than average.

Most annoying of all to Pepper, besides the outright privilege that people like James Potter and Callista Brown enjoyed, was that she knew everything that there was to know about them, and not because she wanted to. It was impossible to avoid knowing the business of families like the Potter-Weasleys, who were often the subjects of newspapers and gossip magazines; the Hogwarts rumor mill loved nothing more than a juicy Potter-Weasley story, and it was impossible to even go to the loo and not overhear a rumor about James Potter or Freddy Weasley. Pepper was sick of it, sick of the world revolving around people who probably didn't even know she existed.

Which was also why Simon's stupid crush on Callista Brown rubbed her the wrong way. Simon Llewellyn was the best person she knew, smart, loyal, and the best friend she could have ever asked for. So it bothered Pepper that when it came to girls, even he was susceptible to the shallow charms of Callista Brown, even when he knew perfectly well that he had a better shot with the ghost of Bellatrix Lestrange. The boy couldn't even form a proper sentence around her, and that was when she wasn't even talking to him _directly. _

_Boys are idiots,_ Pepper reminded herself. _Complete and utter idiots. _

"Whoa—what in Merlin's pants did AJ _do_ to you? This is good! You did in three seconds what I couldn't do in an hour! This looks good, but not like I'm trying too hard,"

Simon, who had been admiring his outfit in the mirror, turned to Pepper with a bright smile. It was the sort of boyish smile that made her forgive him for having the same idiot hormones as every other boy at Hogwarts.

"Easy," said Pepper, tossing _Quidditch Weekly_ face down on the bed so that she wouldn't have to look at James Potter's obnoxious smirk any longer. She recited AJ's rules to him. "'If it's night go for dark wash jeans; if the shoes are fancy but the event is casual wear brown instead of black, and if it's designer avoid logos and motifs because they make you look like a pretentious twat',"

"Huh," said Simon, clearly impressed. "So what's your excuse for your outfit?"

Pepper chucked a discarded pair of pants at him; this seemed to remind Simon he had to clear up before they left the house, and he pulled out his wand to quickly clear up the clutter. For a pureblood, Simon was remarkably skilled at household spells.

"There's nothing wrong with my outfit," Pepper said defensively as she dodged a pair of socks. "Just because I didn't want to go somewhere half-dressed,"

"I think you're taking this Spice Girls thing a little to seriously," snickered Simon. Pepper glanced down at her outfit; okay, so yes, lately Sporty Spice had inspired a lot of her outfits. So what? She'd developed abs in the last few months! Why not show them off? She'd put on a pair of dark blue trackie bottoms and a white sports bra top with a pair of trainers. It had pretty much been her uniform over the summer, and she hadn't seen the point in changing her outfit choice now…especially because she didn't _have_ much else, and AJ hadn't been around to force her into a skirt or dress.

"Are you ready or not?" asked Pepper. Simon reached over to flick her ponytail.

"Let's party,"

Pepper threw up a mocking fist pump, causing her best friend to laugh.

Although the party was open to any Hogwarts student fifth year and above, Pepper and Simon both still felt as though they were crashing some sort of private event as they arrived in front of a beautiful mansion big enough to rival Simon's house (which was saying a lot; he came from old Pureblood money, the sort of Purebloods that had taken an extended vacation out of the country when Voldemort rose to power, both times, to avoid their fortunes being squandered on murder of Death Eater fallacies). They had apparated to the designated alley and had to walk over; now that they'd found the house, even Pepper had lost her bravado about going in.

It was quiet on the street; the sun had gone down hours ago, and although a party was surely raging in the house they stood before, it was quiet except for the odd hooting of an owl and the rustle of trees in the wind. Pepper and Simon huddled beneath the nearest lamppost; magic was clearly keeping party noises contained.

Simon had been the one to apparate them, and Pepper realized now that she'd forgotten to even ask where they were, if they were in a magical community or not. Actually, come to think of it, she didn't even know whose house this was.

"Whose house is this again?" asked Pepper. She was stalling, she knew it, but Simon didn't seem to mind.

After all, this was their first house party. The only parties they'd ever attended was the occasional Gryffindor party or Quidditch party, and usually they'd only last about ten minutes before the awkwardness of not being on speaking terms with their classmates overwhelmed them and Pepper nicked a bottle of Firewhiskey and they went to share it on the Quidditch Pitch.

But Simon, _Simon_ had gotten it into his head that they'd squandered the last six years of their Hogwarts career by making themselves into outcasts, and he'd made the most ridiculous bucket list of all time. Included on that list? Going to a summer party.

"Samantha Remington's," murmured Simon. He was looking a little green.

"Samantha Remington?" scoffed Pepper. "Okay, that's it, we're going in. How is swotty Samantha Remington, top of the class, a better partier than we are? We've hit a new low,"

"Okay, okay, okay," said Simon, bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking his arms out. "Okay, we've got this,"

Realizing how pathetic Simon was, and in turn, she was, Pepper lifted up her chin and squared her shoulders. She might have been antisocial, but she was a Gryffindor, dammit, and if her best friend wanted to go to a stupid party, _they were going to a stupid party_.

"C'mon," she called over her shoulder. Simon was quick to follow on her heels as she strode up to the front door. When her knocks went unnoticed, she pushed the door open.

"Hello?" she called out, stepping in cautiously. The faded pulse of the music was heavy in the air; magic was keeping the loudness down, but she could feel that they were close to the party, the vibrations of the repressed music dancing across her skin. Despite herself, Pepper felt a shiver of excitement go through her.

"Oi!" someone called out

Strolling—or more like stumbling towards them—was Freddy Weasley. His dark skin had been splashed with glow in the dark paint and he'd lost his shirt and shoes at some point in the night, leaving his sculpted chest bare.

"Merlin, it's barely eleven o'clock," said Pepper, reeling in disgust as Weasley's alcohol breath hit her.

"Nearly midnight, actually," muttered Simon.

"This is a fifth year and up party only!"

Pepper threw him a scornful look. "Do we _look_ like we're fourth years?"

Freddy's eyes, glossy and fazed from the drinking, settled on her. A smirk settled on his lips as he through an arm around her shoulders. "Merlin, I 'ope you're not a forth year,"

Pepper flicked his arm off with a look of disgust. It was so like him not to recognize them—even Simon, whom he shared a room with. He was absolutely sloshed.

"Well, soz to say, mates, this is a Hogwarts party only, and I've been tasked with keeping any unwantables out," he slurred.

"No, you haven't, you prat—oh, Simon,"

Malachi Thomas, fellow seventh year Gryffindor and prefect, had arrived too, shooting an apologetic look to Simon. He looked every bit as surprised to see Simon and Pepper as they were to see a half-naked, glowing in the dark Freddy Weasley. He wore a button up with a t-shirt underneath, jeans, and trousers. Pepper knew that Simon was instantly more confident in his own outfit; then again, he was fully clothed, so…

"You know these two?"

"Yes, you drunk prat," laughed Malachi. Pepper decided she liked him a lot more than she liked Weasley. "You do too,"

"He really doesn't," Simon said dryly.

"Freddy, go find your shoes at least, mate. I'll point them in the right direction,"

"Of m'shoes?" asked Weasley, rather stupidly. Pepper thought that, when things had been forming in the womb, his twin sister must had also appropriated his half of the brains.

"Of the party, you dolt!" laughed Malachi. As Weasley finally ambled away, Malachi turned to greet Simon properly; Pepper watched through surprised eyes as Malachi clasped hands with her best friend and they clapped each other on the back as though they were old friends.

_UM—since when the fuck?_ She wondered. Malachi Thomas, although a good deal kinder (and smarter, as far as she knew) than most boys, was still one of the more popular blokes at school, and he was friends with the likes of Weasley and Potter. Even though he shared a dorm with Simon, it wasn't like Simon was on great terms with Potter or Weasley.

"I've got to say," said Malachi as he led them out of the atrium and into a large kitchen. Drinks and cups were strewn about, though the kitchen was mostly empty sans a few students that greeted Thomas eagerly and had little more than awkward waves or nods for Pepper and Simon. "I was fairly surprised when you wrote me asking about the party, Simon,"

Malachi handed Pepper a light muggle beer to Pepper and a shot of firewhiskey to Simon. He didn't seem to notice when they traded. "These things aren't typically your thing, no offense,"

"None taken," Simon grinned. He appeared much more at ease with Malachi, and Pepper wasn't entirely sure it was an act; she thought he might genuinely like Malachi. "Pepper and I thought we'd give being social people a go,"

Malachi laughed; he seemed to do that a lot, and Pepper was starting to find it annoying, mostly because she was finding him cuter and cuter with each flash of his pearly white teeth. There was something about him that came across as so wholesome, like the kind of guy that would take you wouldn't have to worry about being splinched by if he took you along for Side-Along-Apparation. She tipped the firewhiskey back in one quick gulp.

"On behalf of us social people, welcome. Hope you guys enjoy the party. It's just through that door there, into the garden. Unfortunately, I've got to go track down Freddy and make sure he still has his pants on, at the very least. You know how he is at parties,"

"Pretty sure we just established we wouldn't," Pepper said slyly. Simon deftly elbowed her side, but Thomas was, predictably, laughing.

"He laughs too much," Pepper complained as Thomas headed back the way they'd come. She poured herself another firewhiskey, this time in a larger cup, mixing it with a can of Coke she found half under the kitchen island.

"You promised you'd try!" Simon reminded her as he found a bottle opener. "Are you really going to go back on a promise?"

Pepper jutted her bottom lip at him in a pout; he quickly looked away. "Don't even try it!"

"Ugh. You know I don't go back on my promises anyway," mumbled Pepper. "But I don't have to be happy about it,"

Simon made an annoyed sound; Pepper's brown eyes darted up to look at her best friend in surprise. The look on his face was not a common one: he was irritated. Irritated with _her_.

"There's no point in being here if you're not going to give this a real shot, Pepper. And if you're just going to sulk and be snippy with everyone here—then what's the point? We might as well as apparate home and drink alone,"

Pepper bit the inside of her cheek; her instinct was to snap that at least _she_ didn't think there was anything wrong with how they usually spent their summers nights: alone, just the two of them, drinking and dancing to muggle music and watching muggle films. But for whatever reason, this party seemed to really matter to Simon, and so Pepper had to suck it up, because she'd do anything to make her best friend happy.

"Fair warning," said Pepper, adding a little more firewhiskey to her cup. "We might get kicked out tonight,"

"Um—what? Why?" Simon asked in alarm.

"Because I'm going to drink, which means I'm going to dance, and to be quite frank with you, Si, none of these asshats will be able to handle my moves,"

Simon let out a laugh, the sort of laugh that took him from geeky to, well, cute; Pepper wondered what the hell was wrong with her. First Malachi Thomas, and now her best friend Simon was _cute_?

"Just—one more thing," said Simon. His neck and cheeks were flushed pink. "T-the Pact,"

Pepper internalized groan. As if The List wasn't dramatic enough, Simon had also come up with The No Regrets Pacts. Although she knew that making lists was all part of Simon's way to ease into the things he wanted to do.

The No Regrets Pact was something he'd come up with right after The List had been finalized; it was meant to combat his cautious, anxious nature and her penchant for shooting down social situations and interactions. They would, essentially, veto the word 'no', leaving themselves open to adventure, mischief, and what Simon hoped would be exciting and thrilling stories to look back on.

And yet, after an hour of milling about Samantha Remington's backyard, it appeared that the No Regrets Pact was useless, because no one approached them. Their fears of random strangers approaching them with shots of alcohol, perhaps a few puffs off a joint and public dancing were unfounded.

"Well, this is cool," said Pepper. She watched with mild horror as a pair of fifth years sucked face right next to them. She and Simon and been standing in their little corner of the garden (edit: _enormous fucking lawn)_ beneath enchanted lights for twenty minutes, but the young couple didn't seem to notice. The girl's elbow even dug into Pepper's side a few times as she wildly grabbed at her boyfriend;

"Yup. Awesome," agreed Simon, rocking back on the balls of his feet three times.

"Super,"

"Fantastic,"

"…"

"…"

Pepper glanced down at the watch on her wrist. They'd made it an entire hour; approximately forty-five minutes longer than she'd thought they'd last. "So, you wanna—"

"—go get some health code violation gyro at Jorge's?" finished Simon. "Merlin, I thought you'd never ask. Just let me go to the loo first. You know how I feel about apparating on a full bladder,"

Laughing, Pepper watched her friend go. As she did, another elbow—this time to her head—caused her to scowl.

"Honestly, do you mind? Can't you be horny literally _anywhere_ else?" she snapped. The young couple disentangled, looking miffed.

"Sorry, didn't see you," said the boy.

"You know—you could move too. Don't be bitter just because you can't snog anyone,"

Pepper's eyes narrowed at the couple even as her cheeks grew heated. "I could snog someone if I wanted to!"

"Um—okay? Good for you? Then why don't you? Sounds like you need it," said the girl. She dragged her boyfriend away, and even though the boyfriend shot Pepper an apologetic smile, Pepper was left apoplectic and her hand itching for the wand strapped to her thigh.

It wasn't like she couldn't find someone to snog! Not that she'd ever snogged anyone, but she didn't have to be just another horny Hogwarts student to know it took nothing to snog someone. All you had to do was walk up to any bloke and plant one on them—what was so fucking special about that? It wasn't weird to be seventeen and never have snogged someone. Even Simon—

…Even Simon had snogged someone. Pepper cursed the reminder, remembering that Simon had been snogged by a girl who wasn't _technically_ his cousin at a wedding a few weeks ago.

Annoyed suddenly with the party and her best friend, Pepper kicked out at a loose stone on the ground, wondering what the hell was wrong Simon Llewellyn. What the hell did it matter that they weren't friends with the rest of the tossers in their year? They were just that—tossers! And what was so great about people like Malachi Thomas?

And just where the _hell_ was Simon Llewellyn?!

Just as she realized that her best friend had been missing for far too long; even if there had been a massive queue for the bathroom, surely that mansion had more than one—she realized that the garden's atmosphere had changed. The music had been turned down some, and people were quickly flocking to the corner of the garden opposite hers, the one closest to the house. The air was alive with electricity that could only mean one thing: someone was about to fight.

Interest piqued, Pepper let herself be moved along with the crowd: she loved a good duel. She recognized one of the students, probably the instigator, very easily: his headful of messy black hair was the subject of many _Witch Weekly _articles, and unfortunately she'd been stuck sitting behind him in half her classes for the past six years. She wondered what poor sucker had ignited James Potter's wrath; the boy, broad shouldered and muscled from hours spent training for Quidditch, was every bit as lethal with a wand as he likely was with a fist.

Then she realized what poor sucker was behind held up against the wall; _her_ poor sucker.

"Think you can go around and snog my girlfriend and not get the shit beat out of you?" Potter was yelling at Simon. Pepper would have laughed if the git didn't have his hands on her best friend; whoever he had Simon mistaken for was currently very lucky for the case of mistaken identity. Simon, however, was not, and he was stammering too badly to even explain he wasn't the guy that had snogged Potter's girlfriend.

Pushing her way through the crowd, Pepper yelled out at Potter. "Hey, back the hell off!"

When she reached them she gave Potter a harsh shove, surprising him enough that he stumbled away in surprise. His eyes, a crackling green, were blazing with fury.

Pepper stepped between Simon and Potter, eyes set as she glared at the jackass with the so-called perfect hair.

"Who the fuck are you?" Potter asked, so thrown for a moment that his murderous anger died down. Perhaps it was because he didn't expect interference, or perhaps it was because she was a girl and therefore hadn't dropped readily to her knees for him.

"You can't be serious—we've been in the same classes for six years!" Pepper exclaimed incredulously. Sure he recognized her—if not by name, just by sight alone. She couldn't think of anyone she didn't know at least somewhat in their year. "You've had to at least seen me around,"

Judging by the whispering going on around them, James Potter wasn't the only one that didn't recognize her. This only made Pepper angrier.

But Potter seemed to revel in the crowd. When he realized how many people were watching, his anger became more controlled—but it was there, Pepper could see, simmering in his eyes—and his posture became loose, his smirk cruel.

"Wouldn't mind seeing you on your knees, if that's what you mean," said Potter cockily. There was a lot of laughter from the crowd around them, laughter and jeering. From behind her, she heard Simon say something quiet, pleading to her: probably urging her to back down so they could get the hell out of there. And, ordinarily, Pepper would have listened. Ordinarily, Pepper would have backed down, because no one who insulted her was worth the hassle of a duel—no one who insulted her _could_ even duel her.

But this was different, because Pepper realized that maybe Simon really _was _onto something: being invisible absolutely sucked, even if she wasn't too concerned with earning any approval from their fellow students. Someone called for Potter to stop; out of the corner of her eye, Pepper recognized Albus Potter and Rose Weasley. In that split second, she noticed everything; how intoxicated Potter was, how tight the crowd was around them—where Potter's friends and allies stood, where an empty crate of butterbeer lay strewn not too far behind Potter.

How his wand was sticking out of his back pocket (awful place to keep it), right within reach.

"Right, look here sweetheart, I'll get you an autograph later, now kindly shove off. I'm sort of trying to hex the git behind you," said Potter, gesturing for her to step aside as he took a step forward. But again, Pepper quickly mirrored his movements, keeping in front of Simon. Her hand was poised to reach for her concealed wand; Simon noticed this.

"C'mon, let's go. He's not worth it," he urged quietly, tugging at her non-wand arm. But the party around them had gone hushed, listening in to the new entertainment of the night, and everyone heard his nervous words. Including Potter.

Potter laughed incredulously. "I'm sorry, I'm not worth _what_, exactly? Is your little girlfriend here going to hex me?"

"Simon's just trying to spare you further humiliation—he's already snogged _your_ girlfriend, he thinks having you hexed into humiliation by _his_ _little girlfriend _might be a bit much for even an ego as inflated as yours, Potter," Pepper said, offering up her sweetest smile. The crowd around them seemed to draw a collective breath; even Potter's jaw dropped momentarily.

"I don't know who you think you are—"

"I'm sort of Hogwarts best dueler, since you seem confused," interjected Pepper. The groan behind her told her she'd really done it now; challenging James Potter of all people, with an audience at that, was hardly smart or necessary. But she couldn't help herself, not when he was such a dick, not when he was threatening her best friend, not when he didn't even have the decency of recognizing someone he had sat in a classroom with _for six fucking years. _

And, if she was being completely honest with herself, not when she was enjoying each and every look of surprise and shock that crossed those pretty-boy features of his. Standing this close to him, closer than she ever had, she had to smirk; _Witch Weekly _definitely edited pictures of his, because the real James Potter had a nose that was slightly crooked to the left.

Potter laughed. He wasn't the only one at this point; once her words registered, people laughed. Everyone knew Potter as the top DADA student. Pepper knew she was better than him in a duel, but she'd never felt the need to prove it until now. She wasn't like him; she didn't bask in the glory of attention, and yet right then, knowing she was about to kick his arse in front of all of his friends, she could see the amusement he must have taken pushing people like Simon around.

"You're the best. Better than me, you think?" he laughed. He turned and met someone's eyes, a friend's, saying can you believe?, sharing in his amusement before turning back to Pepper.

"I'm sure I can teach you a few things, yeah," said Pepper with a casual shrug. "Just—do you really want to be embarrassed in front of all your friends?"

"_No, no, no_," Simon was chanting under his breath behind them. He was ignored by everyone.

"Honestly sweetheart—I'm giving that mouth of yours a pass because I can think of a lot of things it's better suited for," Potter said suggestively. "So run along, before I lose patience, yeah?"

"Oh, that's right," said Pepper, snapping her fingers three times in quick succession; this time it was a signal, to Simon, to get ready. "You're not used to actually fighting your own battles, are you? That's what daddy's name is for,"

The look in his eyes told her she'd hit the nail on the head; it also tipped her off, and so she was ready for his first hex. Simon was too, as he dove out of the way—the crowd around them did not. Everyone screamed as they ducked for cover.

"Why must you always hex people?" Simon hissed her way as she rolled back onto her feet.

"Take cover, yeah?" she asked with the breathlessness of exhilaration, of excitement—eyes sparkling with merriment for the first time all night even as she slashed her wand to the side, blocking one of Potter's jinx's.

Someone was laughing like a maniac, even as Potter was seething. Pepper caught Freddy Weasley, still shirtless but this time with a hot pink bra strapped across his chest and still no shoes, darting behind the DJ booth. Seconds later, a recognizable beat started echoing across the garden.

"Knew I could teach you something, Potter!" called out Pepper. She was enjoying the frustration playing out across James Potter's features as she danced out of the way of his spells.

_Oh, let's go!_

"See, I know we're already facing each other," said Pepper, leaning out of the way of a purple flash of sparks. She felt the feat of the magic as it soared passed her cheek. "But then we _bow_,"—Pepper made an exaggerated show of bowing, flourishing her hand out as she did, then twisted it to start snapping along with the beat of the music.

_Steve walks wearily down the street_

_With the brim pulled down low_

_Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet_

_Machine guns ready to go_

Pepper blocked the next spell with a lazy flick of her wrist; Potter's spell went wide, causing a nearby bush trimmed in the shape of a unicorn to burst into purple flames. Pepper's head began bobbing in time with the music, soon her whole body was in time with beat as she danced, shimmied, and deflected Potter's spell.

_Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this?_

_Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?_

_Out of the doorway the bullets rip_

_To the sound of the beat_

"_Then_, after bowing, we duel!"

_Another one bites the dust_

_Another one bites the dust_

_And another one gone, and another one gone_

_Another one bites the dust_

_Hey, I'm gonna get you, too_

_Another one bites the dust_

The duel didn't last long after that, and Pepper wasn't quite sure it was even fair to call it one, not when she started fighting back. She would have been the first to admit that Potter's movements weren't as sharp as they would have been—he was, after all, somewhat drunk—but it was quickly obvious who was more skilled. After a slew of Pepper's spells forced him backwards, Potter tripped over the discarded butterbeer crate she'd been herding him into, and seconds later he was down on his knees, his wand in Pepper's hand and her own pointed at his throat.

"I get it now," said Pepper, using the tip of her wand to force his chin up so that their eyes met. "I don't mind the sight of you on _your_ knees, either,"

Someone wolf whistled. _Freddy Weasley strikes again, _thought Pepper.

And James Potter, his once green eyes now burning dark with hatred, didn't flinch away from hers, his jaw set in a defiant way as he glared up at her, still breathing hard.

And Pepper, still looking down at him with the most casual look she could muster, called out over her shoulder to her best friend, "Yo, let's bounce,"

…

_Yo, let's bounce?_ Had she _really_ said that out loud, after kicking James Potter's arse, she had to go and fuck it up by saying something like that? Even Potter seemed surprised—the hatred in his eyes flickered, settling on dumfounded, as though he couldn't believe that the same person that could say something like _yo, let's bounce_ was also the same person that could beat him in a duel.

But, instead of cringing as she wanted to, Pepper kept her expression cool as she felt Simon clamber over to her side. She tossed Potter's wand over to Weasley. Everyone stayed quiet as they made their way from the garden, parting silently to let them through, and she didn't tuck her wand away until they'd made it to the street.

Jorge's was a tiny, dirty restaurant near King's Cross Station that Pepper and Simon had discovered during first year, after their parents had failed to collect them at the station for the Christmas hols. Simon's family had been under the impression that would be spending the holiday at the school, and Pepper's mother had been under the impression one of her sisters was picking her up; they'd assumed their mother was picking them up.

And so, tradition was born.

It was grimy, it wasn't very well lit, and it was muggle, but Pepper and Simon didn't mind it all that much, because the gyro was tasty and the chips were crisp and they'd learned long ago only bottled water and fizzy drinks were safe. The last two summers, since Simon had his apparating license, they'd taken to hanging out in the crumbling restaurant after drinking.

"…and his face!" Pepper exclaimed, munching on another chip happily. "Priceless! You were so right, Simon, we should have started going to these things _ages_ ago!"

"I dunno," said Simon carefully. He'd been quiet since they'd arrived; Pepper knew that drinking and apparating upset his stomach, so she'd chalked it up to that. She pushed the basket of crisps closer to him. "I mean, you completely humiliated him in front of his friends and family—and at his own birthday party,"

"I didn't know it was his birthday!" defended Pepper. Inwardly, she thought that wishing the prat a _happy birthday_ would have been a far better and badass ending to her _yo, let's bounce_; that still made her cringe. "Oh, come on, Si! He was being a prat, and yeah, maybe I taught him a lesson, but he was asking for it, talking like he was! Are you forgetting he was about to hex you or worse?"

"He definitely shouldn't have spoken to you the way he did. That was uncalled for," agreed Simon. Then, "Well, to be fair to him, I _had_ just snogged his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend?"

Pepper snorted. "Oh _right,_" she laughed. "Honestly, why did he think you snogged Callista Brown? Who could he have possible confused you with?"

It was a great testament to their friendship that Simon did not bristle at her comment; where others might have found her disbelief insulting, he understood it perfectly.

"Erm, well," Simon ran his hand through his hair once, twice, three times. "In fact, I _did_ snog Callista Brown,"

Pepper's mouth slid open.

"You're actually being serious. Holy _shit, you snogged Callista Brown?!_" she exclaimed. Simon flushed.

"Yeah, but it wasn't really like that! I went looking for a bathroom without a massive queue, but I found her crying in a bedroom instead, and then she kissed me—but she was _so_ drunk, and I told her I couldn't snog her like that—but then she bloody threw herself on top of me, and then Kieran Wood walked in—I was just looking for the loo, I swear!" he said miserably.

Pepper bit her lip to keep from laughing. But soon she couldn't, and once she started she found it hard to laugh.

"You should have let him hex me," Simon added miserably. Pepper rolled her eyes.

"Okay so fine, yeah, shitty to find out your girlfriend is snogging another bloke at your own birthday party, but that didn't give him the right to try to hex you, _or_ speak to me the way he did," reasoned Pepper. "She's the one he should be upset with. And you should be too. It was so bad of her to put you in that position,"

They sat in silence for a moment.

"So…was it good?" Pepper asked hesitantly.

"Am I Voldemort reincarnated if I say yes?" Simon asked anxiously. Pepper laughed, though her good mood soured.

"How is it that you've snogged two people—including the most popular girl in school—and I've only ever snogged a poster of Victor Krum?" she whined.

"Since I'm such an expert now, I'll snog you, if you want," offered Simon.

Pepper threw chips at his face.

* * *

So what were your first impressions of Pepper, Simon, James and Fred? Let me know in the comments! I've got a few chapters written out of this, and I'm excited for it!

{{Obviously I don't own Queen's music or HP}}


	2. Chapter 2

"GET OUT!"

"NO!"

"I'M GOING TO HEX THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!"

"Language girls, _please—"_

"I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF A CRISIS!"

"I DON'T GIVE A _FUCK_ ABOUT YOUR CRISIS! I'M GOING TO MISS THE TRAIN!"

A very irate Mrs. Williams met Pepper in the hall of their shabby apartment. She was a pretty woman in her early forties with a lot of red hair and too many daughters. Currently, just having two living at home was proving to be a little too much when it came to mornings. "Really, Pepper, must you use such language? Be a bit more like your sisters, won't you?"

Pepper rolled her eyes as she withdrew her wand, the act instinctual at the suggestion she behave more like her older sisters. She'd spent most of her life behaving decidedly _not_ like them, and not by accident, either. She tapped the keyhole of the bathroom door with her wand and quickly whispered, '_alohamora'_ and then edged the door ajar. Sticking her hand into the steamy bathroom, she waved her wand.

"OW SHIT, _FUCK_! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, PEPPER!"

Pepper lifted a challenging eyebrow in the direction of her mother, who clicked her tongue in disapproval.

The bathroom door swung open, and AJ, the fourth oldest daughter of Mrs. Hastings and stepped out in a fluffy pink robe, her skin an alarming shade of blue. She reminded Pepper of a character from those muggle comics Simon tried to pretend he wasn't obsessed with.

"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Hastings, covering her mouth with her hand. "Pepper, undo this _now_, your sister has somewhere to be,"

"_I_ have somewhere to be—you know, King's Cross? Where the train waits for no one?" Pepper argued back, locking herself in the bathroom. Her sister had monopolized the bathroom all morning, leaving Pepper with very little time to shower and get dressed, which irritated her greatly, as these days AJ didn't seem capable of rising before noon anyway except for the one day it mattered to Pepper.

Soon she was showered and dressed, and although she still wasn't as good at taming her curly hair as AJ seemed to be, she had wrangled her frizzy curls into a semblance of acceptable thanks to some product from a shop in Diagon Alley that she'd nicked from Simon's bathroom called Sleezy Slick or something.

By the time she arrived downstairs at the breakfast table with her trunk levitating behind her, AJ had finished telling her mother about the time Pepper had gotten caught sneaking out of the dorm last year with a boy—no matter that the boy had been _Simon_—and that she'd stopped their mother from finding out about the subsequent detentions by sneaking out of the school_, _going to Hogsmeade, and flooing home to burn the letter Longbottom had written home. After which Mrs. Hastings caught Pepper flipping her sister the bird and launched into a second lecture, leading Pepper to admit that she'd only thought to do the thing after _AJ_ had done it first, having gotten caught doing unspeakable things to someone else's boyfriend after hours by the Head Girl.

"Oh, wait—wasn't he dating the Head Girl?" Pepper asked, batting her eyelashes at AJ. "And wasn't she a good friend of yours?"

"You're the reason half my head's gone grey," muttered Mrs. Hastings.

Pepper wasn't sure if that remark was geared at her or at AJ or both of them, but her gold watch told her that it was about time to head out, and she was itching to get out of the flat. They'd moved in the summer before, when AJ had graduated and swore up and down she was moving out and had both a flat and a job lined up. Their mother had been eager to downsize to something cheaper, which unfortunately meant that, for reasons AJ still refused to properly explain, the two sisters were stuck sharing a room once more. AJ had been insufferable as she went on job interview after job interview, and their older sisters dropping in from time to time to critique various aspects of Pepper's life had nearly caused her to _Avada_ herself on more than one occasion. Even the escapes to Simon's house were only good for so long; having to be in the presence of his parents had quickly lost its charm. They were probably the strangest Purebloods around, and still after all these years Pepper had no idea how she felt about them.

"'M goin'," Pepper muttered from around a mouthful of toast as she grabbed her trunk and Cinnamon's cage. The red tuft of hair inside made an annoyed meowing sound in response, and Pepper realized she'd forgotten to cast an inertia-negating charm so that he didn't feel too jostled about. She remedied her mistake immediately.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

"And you know, undo this hex?" added AJ. With her blue skin and red hair, she looked like one of the figures from the Muggle comics Simon pretended he wasn't obsessed with still. "Because _hello, _still blue here!"

Goodbyes were quick; they made Pepper uncomfortable, and she avoided looking directly at her mother's misty eyes. She changed AJ's skin back to its flawless, milky pallor, and after more bickering, stepped out of the apartment and apparated, eager to be gone and eager to forget the guilt eating away at her eagerness. She loved her mother, and AJ too, albeit in a much more complicated, sisterly way, but Hogwarts was _home_.

The King's Cross designated apparating zone was predictably packed, and she fought her way through the mass of animal cages, trolleys and trunks as she headed straight for her favorite train in the world. With her apparating license, she no longer needed muggle transportation, and she knew that for many wizards, the Hogwarts Express was the last train ride they ever took. But Pepper liked the idea of trains; Simon said that she romanticized them. But the idea of a train ride filled her with a tug of longing for adventure, and maybe it was because that's where the adventure had first started for her: on the Hogwarts Express.

Like the platform, the train was similarly packed, with children running up and down the halls in search of their friends and nervous first years anxiously searching for somewhere to sit and, most importantly, a friendly face. The trolley lady was already being hounded by a group of second years that felt all too big and important now that they were no longer the newcomers to the school. A rush of excitement shot through Pepper, and she breathed it all in: the smell of smoke, magic, of fading summer and the leather of school trunks.

With her deliberate pace and confident push through the crowds, Pepper was quick to find the usual compartment she shared with Simon.

Only the compartment slid open before she reached it, and the last person she expected to see swanned out: Callista Brown. Her golden hair fell about her shoulders in a spill of highly methodical waves, catching the sunlight streaming in through the closest window. She wore a simple summer dress of pink and white linen, and even Pepper thought she looked like a summer daydream.

Pepper blinked a few times, as though the motion would cause Callista to disappear like the mirage she resembled, but it didn't. Callista spotted her, smiled awkwardly—even offered something kind of like a wave—and then quickly left, hurrying away from her in the opposite direction, golden curls bouncing in a way that was so slightly unnatural Pepper had to smirk; just how many _spells_ did the girl use to achieve her perfection? When she peered into the compartment, she was equally shocked to find that it really was her best friend sitting, if in a daze, near the window.

"_Hi_…" she said slowly as she entered the compartment, dragging her things with her. She was afraid to move too suddenly, lest he frighten like a cornered baby bird.

"Hullo," Simon said hesitantly, clutching at his book bag. It was settled determinedly in his lap, his finger white knuckled where they twisted into the fabric and gripped hard.

Pepper peered at him suspiciously as she took the seat opposite him. His neck and ears and cheeks were flushed.

"So what was…?"

"Yup," Simon said quickly. He adjusted his glasses with one hand—they where laughably askew, after all, though his hands quickly shot back down to clutch at is bag when it began to slide to the floor.

"And she was here because…?"

"Erm, to apologize," said Simon said, like he himself couldn't believe what he was saying. "Callista Brown searched the Hogwart's Express for me so that she could apologize for snogging me and for James Potter trying to hex me last week,"

"Uh huh," said Pepper, her eyes focused on her friends unruly hair and wrinkled shirt. There was just the hint of a bubblegum pink stain at his collar. "…and?"  
"And _nothing_," said Simon, cheeks burning a furious pink in a way that was to say, there was indeed _something_. He ruffled his hair three times and fixed his glasses again tapping the sides. "Just, you know, she snogged me again,"

"Oh my Godric," said Pepper, and somehow the surprise was overwhelming even though she had put together the evidence long before he'd uttered the words aloud. "That's twice now—I think its assault at this point, Si,"

"I wasn't exactly pushing her away," Simon defended. Pepper had to quickly rearrange the expression on her face. "Granted, I had no idea what was happening either times, but…"

Simon mistook her scandalized expression, looking away quickly. But Pepper had just put together why his bag was in his lap, what it was likely hiding, and she chuckled uncomfortably. Sex wasn't a topic that they approached, at least not unless it was in an entirely theoretical or hypothetical sense

"What the fuck?"

* * *

It took Pepper a while to put together that, for the first time since they'd arrived at Hogwarts, the Back to School Feast was buzzing with talk of _them_. Gossip was always flying around; that was the standard, which Pepper had always thought was very sad at a school of _magic_, and that September 1st kicking off their seventh year was no different.

"…hexed him. Apparently it was some four way love triangle gone wrong," she heard a fifth year whispering a few seats down from where she sat with Simon. "Potter was dating Brown but messing on the side with the Peppercorn girl, who was actually dating the scrawny one with the glasses who was also snogging Brown on the side,"

"That's not a triangle, you idiot," whispered her friend furiously. "And besides, who even is that Peppercorn girl? I've never met her. And I hear that guy isn't even hot,"

"My cousin shared a dorm with him. His name is Silas," the other girl said importantly. "And besides, he _is_ hot—in like, a Ravenclaw sort of way, d'you know what I mean? Like imagine him with a bit of eyeliner, yeah?"

"Oh good Godric," hissed Pepper. She leaned in closer to Simon. "Everyone knows—or, well, _thinks_ they know,"

"Know what?" he asked, looking up from where he'd been busy constructing a teepee with the left over bones from the chicken drumsticks from dinner. Charming.

"Listen," urged Pepper. "And look,"  
Sure enough, eyes were darting towards them every so often, and her survey of the rest of the Gryffindor table revealed that someone had been glaring at them, perhaps for a while. When she caught his eye, he stabbed his fork violently into his steak.

James Potter.

"Oh, great, just great," said Simon. His fingers began to shake to the point that his half-built bone teepee fell apart. "How is this happening to us? Oh yeah, you had to go and hex the shit out of wizarding society's Golden Boy,"

"Oh please, I barely touched him, he was too drunk for me to have taken advantage of like that," Pepper argued back. "I just, you know, disarmed and defended with style,"

"Oh, because _that's _so much better," Simon snapped back.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. I-Go-Around-And-Snog-People's-Girlfriends," said Pepper.

Simon squared his jaw. "Fair enough,"

Her snark vanished as a worrisome thought crossed her mind. "Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?"

Simon jammed his elbow into the butter dish, hard enough that he hollered out in pain; when he yanked it out, he knocked over his goblet of pumpkin juice and the three plates nearest him, including the bowl of mashed potatoes that tipped into Pepper's lap.

"Merlin's sake, Si!" Pepper screeched.

Unsurprisingly, James Potter and his friends were the loudest of all the laughs, which was saying something, as most of the hall was laughing.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Simon said anxiously. "Pep—"

"It's fine—Godric you haven't been this clumsy in ages," laughed Pepper, because even she thought it was a bit funny as she Vanished the mess with a flick of her wand. Then, noticing that James Potter was still staring at them, Pepper made a show of using only her middle finger to swipe the little bit of mashed potato that had landed on her cheek facing Potter and his friends so that she was flipping him off; then she sucked the mashed potatoes off her finger and let her finger go with a _pop!_ so that it was unmistakably thrust in his direction.

Potter cocked his head to the side as though to say, _really?_ as his eyebrow shot up, lips parting slightly in surprise. Simon made a strangled noise.

"That is _not_ going to help rumors," groaned Simon.

"What, me flipping him off?" asked Pepper, turning back to him in confusion.

"You _flirting _with him, you mean?" snapped Simon.

"_Flirting_?" Pepper asked in disbelief. "Did you not just see—"

"Merlin, Pepper, I know you're dense about these things, but you can't just go about and suck on your fingers—don't you know _anything_ about blokes?" Simon asked in annoyance.

Pepper's cheeks heated up, and she eyed her friend with a rare bout of anger; she didn't like the feeling she had right now, like she'd done something wrong. "I'm pretty sure James Potter didn't just look at me and see anything but the person he hates flipping him off, Simon,"

Simon merely grunted in response.

"As I was saying before," Pepper went on stubbornly. "If you want, I can crash in your dorm—Merlin knows it's going to be a hostile environment, what with Potter and his idiot lackeys,"

"What—fuck's sake, Pepper, I know this might seem like a foreign concept to you, but I actually am capable of looking after myself," snapped Simon.

Pepper watched in shock as her friend stood abruptly grabbed his cloak, and left dinner without her.

What the hell?

* * *

Pepper went straight to bed after that, arriving long before her dorm mates. Her trunk was at the foot of the bed, but she didn't care about unpacking anything more than her pajamas and getting Cinnamon out of his cage. She never fought with Simon, at least never seriously; Pepper grabbed her pillow and placed it over her head, screeching into it until she felt better.

In the end she gave up. Her throat hurt and now she felt worse.

_James fucking Potter_, Pepper thought to herself darkly. This was his fault, and the fault of Simon's stupid list, because things had been fine until that stupid party. And you know what? It _was_ Simon's stupid fault too, because why had he decided things had to change? They'd spent the last six years of their lives living in the shadows of people like James Potter and Callista Brown—why was he so set to mix things up? Things had been perfectly fine before!

Her fellow dorm mates had made it up from dinner a while ago and, from the whispering going on around her bed hangings, had assumed she had gone to sleep or simply did not care if she heard them. Every once in a while she caught Potter's name, but it was impossible to tell if it was the usual gossip going around about him, or if it involved her and Simon. Not that it mattered. Pepper wasn't listening; she was simmering with anger still, thoughts growing wilder as they chased each other round and round in her head. She could only picture how every other night of September 1st had been spent sneaking through the school grounds with her best friend, laughing, eating Chocolate Frogs and dancing to music only they could hear as they dodged patrolling Prefects and evaded Peeves.

If Simon Llewellyn thought he could snog Callista Brown and then suddenly turn into an angsty mess of teenage hormones, well, he had another thing coming.

"That's it!" declared Pepper, wrenching her bed hangings to the side so violently Cinnamon darted off her bed and under another.

Four heads swiveled in her direction, looking at her in surprise. She ignored them as she grabbed her wand off her nightstand and searched under her bed for the boots she had discarded little more than an hour ago.

"Um, are you all right, Hastings?" Amoli Patil asked hesitantly. Her best friend, Ginger (who _so_ wasn't a ginger) Vane, shot her a look. Ginger had never liked Pepper for reasons still unbeknownst to Pepper, and typically forbade Amoli Patil from being too friendly with her. Pepper was pretty sure Ginger was simply terrified that Amoli would one day realized that Ginger was a massive bitch and find better friends, but what did she know?

"Peachy," Pepper grunted back. She didn't hate her dorm mates, but Pepper also didn't have much more in common with them than the room that they shared to sleep in. Amoli Patil was a very pretty, very quiet girl who seemed mostly subservient to her best friend, Ginger. Ginger Vane wasn't as pretty, but she might as well have been a Slytherin in disguise and, as rumor had it, had mastered love potions back in second year.

Then there were the Weasley girls. There were a total of four seventh years in the Potter-Weasley clan, Freddy Weasley, James Potter, Dominique Weasley, and Molly Weasley. All four were in Gryffindor, and all four were very popular. People coveted their friendship more than they did a passing grade in their NEWTS.

Both Dominique and Molly kept to themselves. They were friendliest with Amoli, who's mother was on good term with their family, but mostly they whispered into each others ears about what it was like to be a beautiful and smart and have perfect hair... or so Pepper assumed. Molly Weasley was their new Head Girl, and Dominique Weasley, though beautiful and soft looking, was impressive on the Quidditch field as one of Gryffindor's prolific Chasers. Both girls were frustratingly well-rounded, and they reminded Pepper of the Twins; maybe that was why she went out of her way to avoid them.

Molly was watching Pepper through disapproving eyes; it was obvious that the Head Girl did not like what putting on a pair of boots after curfew insinuated, but she remained mercifully tight-lipped and silent. Dominique Weasley, on the other hand, lifted her eyes from the bottle of nail varnish she was balancing on her bed to shoot her a strange smile.

"Are you off to duel my cousin, by any chance?" she asked cheerfully. Pepper paused, eyeing her shrewdly. Was this some sort of joke? Was Dominique going to hex her first if she said yes?

"Only if he gets in my way again,"

Dominique smirked, blowing on her nails. They were a brilliant red-orange. "In case you hadn't figured it out yet, he favors his right side, you know, when he duels,"

Pepper _had_ noticed that, which was the only reason she knew that Dominique wasn't lying to her. But she remained suspicious, even as Molly Weasley shot her cousin a dirty look. Why would Potter's cousin want to help her—not that she was about to go embarrass the bloke again, but still.

"He's also _really_ into his hair!" Dominique called after her as she stomped her way down to the Common Room.

* * *

Perhaps shockingly, Pepper had only ever gone up to the boys side of the dormitory a handful of times and not since fifth year, when she'd walked up the stairs to find Simon and instead found a naked first year. She'd screamed, he'd screamed, she'd never gone back.

But now, spurred on by anger, she stomped her way up the stairs, not caring when the occasional boy on the stairs tried to question her presence or made a lewd comment at her. When they saw the wand in her hand, they all backed away quickly, and for the first time in the last few hours, Pepper appreciated the speed with which rumors spread. It seemed that after six years, people were learning not to fuck with her.

The Seventh Year dormitory was located right at the top of the tower, much like her own, and she burst in unceremoniously, not caring if anyone was sleeping, if anyone was half naked (though she prayed to Merlin all the important bits were covered up) or that she might get yelled at. She just needed to set Simon straight.

"Hey!" squealed Freddy Weasley. As seemed to be a recurring theme with him, he was barely clothed, standing only in silky blue boxers. "Oh, _hey_," he smirked, realizing who she was.

Pepper was not amused.

"Hullo, Pepper," Malachi Thomas greeted from the bed closest to her. He was dressed in respectable Gryffindor-themed pajamas, at least. That didn't distract her from how he'd just used her first name; so they were chummy now, were they?

"Thomas," she returned, annoyed but unable to be outright impolite to him. He grinned back at her. Freddy had moved to lean against his four-poster bed, his dark skin rippling a bit as he flexed. Pepper fought the urge to gag. The hangings were drawn shut around the bed next to Thomas's, and she was certain it belonged to Kiernan Wood; the Puddlemere United bed hangings were a dead giveaway. There were two other beds; one a neat one with a trunk at its foot, and the one in the furthest corner had collected an array of clutter: she imagined it to be Potter's bed. The neat one was clearly Simon's.

"I'm here for—"

"Oh, we know what you're here for," Freddy said with a suggestive wink. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable—he's just gotten in the shower. Might be a while—unless you want to go and join him, which I doubt he'd mind, really,"

Pepper scowled at that; she had expected an immediate confrontation, not to be kept waiting or to have to interact with Freddy Weasley of all people, and she muttered under her breath as she stalked over to Simon's bed, moving to sit against the headboard, her legs kicked out in front of her. No matter how upset she was at him, she knew that Simon would kill her for having shoes on his bed, and so she kicked them off, leaving her in her mismatched socks.

Freddy let out a wolf-whistle, making a show of kicking up his own bare legs. Pepper's scowl deepened, and she ripped the bed hangings shut, tuning out his laughter with a quick wave of her wand.

Simon took forever, and she knew his condition-shampoo-condition-again routine was to blame. She teased him about it often, and he defended himself saying that he had curly hair; when she pointed out that she too had curly hair and five times the amount he did and yet she still took a third of the time he did in the shower, he simply reminded her that there was a reason his hair looked better than hers.

At some point, the lights were turned off, and though she couldn't hear it, she felt the movement of the boys in the dormitory getting into bed. The longer she waited the more tired she grew, her anger dissipating along with her energy until her eyes were fluttering shut. The bed didn't smell like Simon yet; it was still the ambiguous scent of the Hogwarts laundry.

She dozed off.

* * *

Something was moving, and Pepper didn't like it. She snuggled further into the warmth of the blanket beneath her and away from what was disrupting her sleep, murmuring incoherently about bowtruckles and tree sap.

"This is certainly new,"

"G'way," muttered Pepper, turning away from the voice.

"First you crash my party and now my bed,"

"S'tup Si," she mumbled.

A sharp slap to her arse caused her to shriek and sit upright. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, her arm was held upright immediately, wand aloft as she searched for danger. A light went on, and she met the crackling green eyes of James Potter.

"I _know_ you did not just smack my arse, Potter," she growled.

"I _know_ you're not about to hex _me_ for getting into _my_ bed!"

"Excuse me?" screeched Pepper. "What the hell makes you think I'd _ever_ want to get anywhere near your bed? I happen to enjoy being disease free, thank you,"

Potter's eyes narrowed furiously. For a split second, Pepper was distracted by a pearl of water dripping from his still-wet hair that trailed down his bare chest, towards an exceptionally defined V shaped pointing to a red towel wrapped securely around his waist. She clenched her jaw, resolutely looking away. Now was _so_ not the time for raging teenage hormones to make their debut.

"Then. Why. Are. You. In. My. Bed?" he all but growled. She saw that the commotion had woken up his bedmates, and that they were all peering blearily at them.

"James, mate—" Thomas tried to say, but Pepper's exclamation drowned out his words.

"_Your_ bed. Oh _gods_—I'm going to have to take a shower in _fiend fyre _just to get clean—where's Simon?"

"Who the fuck is Simon?" he exclaimed.

"Ugh, you're such a prick!" exploded Pepper. "How do you not know the name of your own dorm mate, especially when he apparently snogs your girlfriend better than you can?"

"Oh, _shit_!" exclaimed Freddy Weasley from somewhere behind them. "No, Malachi—I swear to Merlin, you let this play out!" There was a commotion as Freddy leaped from his bed to Malachi's, tackling the Seventh Year Prefect to the ground. Potter didn't even bat an eye at the crashing noises. Kiernan Wood didn't even stir from behind his curtains.

"Are you looking to get hexed again?" threatened Potter. Pepper laughed darkly as she leaned down and began shoving her feet back into her boots.

"You're joking, right? I know you were piss-drunk last time, but you didn't _touch_ me," snapped Pepper.

"Good thing I'm not plastered this time, eh? Think you can still beat me when I'm sober?" challenged Potter.

"I _know_ I can duel circles around you any time, any place, Potter—with a hand tied behind my back!" Pepper exclaimed. She stood up abruptly, at the same time that Potter stepped forward and her head snapped right into his face.

"Oh, _fuck!_" he exclaimed, holding a hand up to his nose as a fountain of blood gushed out of it.

"Serves you right—ever heard of personal space, Potter?" she yelled at him as she backed away from the gushing blood. She hadn't meant to injure him, but somehow she couldn't find it in her to feel bad-or offer up an _episkey_ spell.

"Personal space—_you're the one in my bloody bed!_"

"It's certainly bloody now, isn't it?" Pepper said sweetly. "Now, where's Simon?"

Potter had snatched a shirt off the edge of his bed and was using it to mop up the blood on his nose; as he did, his eyes scanned the length of her.

"My face is up here, Potter," she spat at him vehemently. "Now what did you do with—"  
"And that's _my Mum's _face on your pants!" he shouted back at her.

Pepper glanced down at the boxer shorts peeking out past the large t-shirt she wore; sure enough, Ginny Weasley's face was a repeated motif in bright red-orange. "They were a gift! Now tell me where Simon is, you self-serving, narcissistic prat!"

"HE DOESN'T LIVE HERE!" roared Potter. "And it's a good thing too, because the next time I see the skinny git, I'm hexing him into the next bloody century!"

"What do you mean he doesn't live here?" snapped Pepper. "I realize you're so up yourself you probably can't recognize anything but your own arsehole, but he's a seventh year Gryffindor, and this is the seventh year dorm so—"

"Pepper," Malachi called, his expression sheepish. Pepper wasn't even sure how he was speaking let alone breathing through the headlock Freddy Weasley had him in. "James is, uh, James is right. He doesn't live here. He hasn't since fifth year, "

"Then where the hell does my best friend live?!"

* * *

Pepper skipped breakfast, darting in during the last few minutes only when she was certain that not a single seventh year boy was in the Great Hall. When she dubbed the coast clear, she rushed over to Longbottom for her timetable and a half-hearted discussion about her course load.

Her first class of the day was Potions, as though things weren't already bad enough for her. Now she had to start her morning with her worst subject. When she did arrive to Potions, she was quickly waved down by Simon, who was sitting in a seat near the back of the classroom, away from Professor Grey's hawkish gaze.

"Did you oversleep? I grabbed you a croissant, hope it's not squished, it's been in my bag for like twenty minutes—sorry for snapping…at…you…last…night?" Simon trailed off as Pepper, holding her chin up high, walked straight passed him and took a seat two tables behind him. His look of surprise made her stomach drop uncomfortably, and so she stared steadfastly forward, having pulled out a roll of parchment and a fluffy purple quill.

As Professor Grey stood from her desk and moved to the chalkboard to write the day's lesson on the board along with a page number, Pepper realized that her silent treatment wouldn't last long; they were the only two students sitting alone, and Professor Grey would probably match them up as partners, which was probably all the better because Pepper wasn't entirely sure how to be upset with her best friend, even if he had for whatever reason, lied to her for the past year.

"All right, class—"

The dungeon classroom door banged open, and two boys entered, drawing Professor Grey's ire at their tardiness.

"Sorry, Professor," said James Potter, flashing her his signature, charming smile. He held up a small roll of parchment. "We were in the hospital wing,"

"Already?" drawled Professor Grey, snatching the parchment from his hand suspiciously. She scanned it quickly. "You're excused, Mr. Potter. You, however, Mr. Weasley, are not mentioned in this note,"

"I promise I was with him, Professor! Had to help my cousin, didn't I?" said Freddy Weasley, flashing his own version of the charming smile. Pepper rolled her eyes when the two girls sitting closest to the front, a pair of simpering Ravenclaws, nearly expired on the spot. Disgusting.

"Mr. Potter needed assistance finding his way to the hospital wing after all these years for a _broken nose?_" Professor Grey asked archly.

"Moral support, Professor. We tried fixing it last night, see, but my _episkey_ needs work, and it was all sorts of crooked when we woke up this morning," said Freddy. "And Jamsie is very about his looks—he was a blubbering mess, wondering if that perfect face of his would make it—he might not look it, Professor, but he's an ugly crier,"

"Yes, lot's of tears were involved. Wouldn't have made it without dear Freddy here," Potter said flatly, evidently not amused by his cousin's telling.

"Next time you're late, it's a detention. Now find your seats and turn to page thirty eighty in your textbooks,"

Pepper's jaw practically dropped to the floor; she'd once gotten detention for _sneezing too loudly, _and it hadn't even been her fault, as they'd had to use peppercorn powder as one of their ingredients that day. Then something even worse happened.

Both boys turned to the class, searching for an empty table; as it happened, the only two empty seats were next to Simon and Pepper respectively. The blood drained from Pepper's face, mirroring the astonished look on James Potter's.

Freddy, quickly drawing the same conclusion, let out half a laugh. "With the utmost pleasure, Professor!"

Potter was hesitating; clearly, Pepper thought, she and Simon represented two evils, and he was weighing which of them was the lesser: the git that had snogged his girlfriend (did he even know that it had happened twice?) and the girl that had embarrassed him and then broken his nose not twelve hours before.

Pepper, who had never before considered herself an antagonistic person, winked at Potter. She couldn't help it. His fists curled at his sides.

It was Freddy Weasley made the decision for them. He plopped down in the seat next to Pepper, ignoring her scathing look when he scooted unnecessarily close to her and draped an arm around the back of her chair.

"You, my dear Pepper Hastings," said Freddy. "Must be sugar, spice, and everything naughty,"

From the seat ahead of them, Potter snorted in derision. Simon, his finger tapping out a nervous rhythm of threes against his textbook, glanced back at his best friend.

"This is _your_ fault," she mouthed back at him scornfully. His eyes widened.

"_How even?_" He mouthed back. She glared.

"So tell me, Hastings," said Freddy. "When did dye your hair? Because James has snogged and shagged his way through just about every available ginger in school, but I don't recall ever seeing you around,"

Pepper studiously ignored him as she copied down Grey's notes. The Professor's wrote as fast as she spoke-which was disturbingly fast, and she was not about to fail Potions just because Freddy Weasley decided to chat her up.

"Though, I suppose, I don't really know what happened last night, before the rest of us woke up," went on Freddy. Pepper's quill threatened to tear through her parchment. "Now, you strike me as an honest girl, so tell me _really—_is James really all that great of a shag? You didn't really seem to be in his bed for long,"

"_What?!_"

Simon whipped around, as did the students nearest them; Freddy hadn't exactly been whispering. Even Potter cursed, tossing his quill down on the desk as he turned to scowl at his cousin.

And, very suddenly, Simon, gentle, never hexed a soul in his life Simon, was standing, his wand pointed at James Potter.

"You did _what_ with my—my best friend?!" said Simon, stammering through his anger. Pepper stared at him in shock, as did half the class; even Professor Grey looked temporarily gobsmacked that Simon of all people had interrupted class to turn his wand on a student.

James Potter, however, was smirking. Evidently he did not appear threatened by Simon's wand. In fact, he was deliberately smirking as he sat back in his chair, spreading his strong thighs apart as he basked in the attention from the room.

"Well, to be perfectly honest with you, the boxers with my Mum's face on them were a bit off-putting, but then I was so distracted by those legs of hers—you know, she's got the this cute little birthmark on the inside of her thigh—"

"Mr. Lewis! Mr. Potter! Wands _down this instant!" _

Professor Grey's warning was ignored, because to the surprise of everyone in the room, Simon had fired off a hex. But Potter had been prepared; with his reflexes honed from Quidditch, he batted the hex to the side, rising to his feet so that he stood over Simon; Pepper had always thought that Simon was so tall, but standing next to Potter, she realized just how slim her friend was.

"WANDS DOWN, I SAY! POTTER! LEWIS!"

"_It's LLEWELLYN!" _Pepper and Simon called out in unison.

Pepper, shaking with fury at Potter's insinuations and the fact that even Professor Grey couldn't get her best friend's name right, grabbed her wand and quickly disarmed Potter. Potter threw her a glare as he had to physically dodge a hex from Simon and, as students screamed and ducked and a cauldron exploded somewhere, Freddy's maniacal laugh echoed in the dungeon classroom.

Things did not, naturally, end well.

In the end, three students ended up in the hospital wing; Simon, as it happened, was brilliant at Charms, but awful at dueling, and still couldn't aim for shit; his spells had gone wide and hit a few unstable potion ingredients and tipped over the example potions Grey had at the front of the room. Another pair of student were assigned detention for snogging in the ingredient's cupboard while chaos broke out in the classroom, and Pepper was left to wait anxiously in the hall with a still-laughing Freddy Weasley as Professor Grey tore Simon and Potter a new one.

When he still hadn't stopped laughing, Pepper delivered a swift punch to Freddy's gut.

"Ouf—what was that for? I was just having a laugh!" groaned Freddy, clutching at stomach.

"Hmph," sniffed Pepper. "And now so am I. _You_ started that mess, Freddy Weasley. You set me up in there, and I'll bet you did that to get a rise out of Simon too—just like you _knew_ I was looking for Simon when you sent me off to Potter's bed!"

"Merlin, you think I'm really that clever?" grinned Freddy.

"I think you're a prankster and a jackass and you should have been in Slytherin," Pepper said as scathingly as she could muster.

"Oi, you take that back!" said Freddy, sounding genuinely insulted.

The door swung open before Pepper could swing her fist back again, and an irate Potter came striding out of the classroom. His eyes landed on Freddy first. "I was going to kill you, mate, but I figure I'll just write my favorite Auntie Angie about how you've been watering down the family firewhiskey since you were thirteen,"

"Oh, come on! Does no one understand a good laugh anymore?" whined Freddy. Potter turned on Pepper and, because he was a jackass, stepped forward so that he was in her space, towering over her. Pepper's eyes narrowed at him dangerously. She refused to take a step back and let him think he was intimidating her.

"And you, Piper,"

"_Pepper_," she growled. "And it's Hastings to you, Potter,"

"_Whatever_," he drawled. "Your twitchy friend and that tight little arse of yours are going to wish you'd never popped up on my radar, understand?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I just got a month's worth of detention thanks to you—"

"_Me? _You and your cousin are the ones with the foul mouths—"

"—and I'm Quidditch Captain, so do you honestly think I have time for this? To polish silver all month over a couple of nobodies?"

Pepper smirked. "Oh, _sweetheart_, it must be eating you up inside that a nobody swept the floor with you in a duel, isn't it? But you know what, you're right—you were drunk. So just name the time and place and—"

"_Okay_," interrupted Freddy, looking genuinely alarmed for the first time. "Let's—James _let's go,_"

The door opened, and a red-faced Simon stepped out of the classroom. Potter shot them each one last scathing glare, before Freddy finally forced him down the corridor, towards the stairs. As they went, Freddy began lecturing Potter about the fine line between sexual tension and murderous intention; Pepper smirked when Potter swiftly punched Freddy in the gut, just as she had.

Pepper and Simon watched the two boys until they were out of sight before turning on each other and exclaiming at the same time:

"I can't believe you!"

"I can't believe you!"

"_Me? _What the hell did I do?" exclaimed Pepper.

"Really?" yelled Simon. "Really, Pepper? _James Potter?_"

Pepper flushed angrily. "You can't possibly think—"

"So you _weren't_ in his bed? And he was just getting top marks in Divination to guess about the birthmark on your thigh?" countered Simon. He was redder than their Gryffindor ties. His posture was rigid, his index finger tapping _one, two, three, one, two, three _into the pocket of his robes.

"Well—yes but—how do _you_ know about my birthmark?" she spluttered. Simon flushed.

"Summer—shorts—beach—So you _were_ in his bed? Unbelievable! You, of all people—" he broke off, shaking his head. "What the hell is wrong with you, Pepper?"

Tears began prickling at the back of her eyes; tears of frustration. In the last twelve hours, she'd had her first fight with Simon, and now he was yelling at her for the first time in their entire friendship, and over something she had absolutely no fault in. She refused to let them fall, especially over the most vile accusation that had ever been thrown at her.

"Wrong with _me_? I was looking for _you_, you prick!" she snapped back. "But guess what—apparently you don't live there!"  
Simon's face turned ashen, but then it regained color quickly, turning a blotchy, angry red once more. "Yeah, well, thank Merlin for that, or I would have had to listen to Potter and you shag—" Pepper purposefully drove her shoulder into his arm as she blew past him. Her entire body was shaking with anger as she walked away from her best friend, refusing to listen to him accuse her of shagging James Potter of all people. Had he struck his head while ducking for cover during his duel or had Callista Brown sucked out his brains when they snogged?

* * *

Her next few classes before lunch were a blur. Pepper sulked all the way through Ancient Runes and Herbology, content only with the fact they were all lecture based lessons that day and therefore she wasn't required to talk to anyone directly. Potter and Simon had both been in Ancient Runes, and so she'd had to find a strategic seat away from them; Simon had sat in a corner in the front, looking as miserable as she felt. Potter had looked between them suspiciously, choosing a seat in the back; Pepper had also chosen a seat in the back, unwilling to have her back to Potter, though she sat on the opposite side of him. In Herbology, Pepper lost Gryffindor five points when it became obvious she wasn't concentrating and had answered _Bobbertubber puss_ when in fact Professor Longbottom had asked her to pass a pair of dragonhide gloves.

Potter had snickered; she'd sent a hex at his tilted chair, causing him to fall out of it. Fortunately for her, Potter had blamed it on a suspicious looking root that had been inching across the Greenhouse 4 floor all lesson long. She might have shared a smile with Simon had they been talking, and the reminder only caused her to sour further.

* * *

"I heard a rumor," came the sing-song voice of Dominique Weasley as she took a seat next to Pepper at lunch. At first Pepper ignored her; she assumed that the strawberry blonde was talking to Molly Weasley, who had just taken a seat across from them. "Well, actually I heard _a lot_ of rumors, and like three involve you, Pepper Hastings,"

Pepper's eyes shot to Dominique; yes indeed, perfect, beautiful Dominique Weasley was chatting with her openly, casually as she began to fill up her goblet with pumpkin juice. "Apparently when you sashayed off last night, it was to go fuck my cousin,"

"_Dominique,_" groaned Molly "Language, please. I can't show blatant favoritism, especially around family,"

"Oh please, who's Pepper going to tell?" said Dominique, shooting Pepper a wink. Pepper rolled her eyes at the not-so subtle dig that she had no friends to speak of. Well, she had Simon. Sort of. Maybe.

Pepper poked at her potatoes disinterestedly.

"So, you didn't, right?" Went on Dominique.

"I'd sooner throw myself off the Astronomy Tower," muttered Pepper.

"Then tell me this ones's true: you're the reason he's got a _month _of detention," Dominique said gleefully. Pepper's interest piqued at her blatant delight at her cousin's misfortune. Pepper sat up straighter, shooting Dominique a dazzling smile.

"I wish I could take all the credit, but I think I was only the catalyst, so to speak," Pepper said modestly. Molly snorted, shaking her head as she pulled out a book.

"Oh, I _knew_ I'd like you," purred Dominique. "You're hot, dangerous, and mouthy—you're going to absolutely _ruin_ my cousin," Again, this was said with extreme delight, and though Pepper wasn't entirely sure what Dominique Weasley was going on about, it appeared to be somewhere along the lines of James Potter's ruination, and it was a beautiful, serene thought to her.

"If you ever need, you know, any tips, any dirt on him—well, you know where I bunk," said Dominique.

"_Dom_," groaned Molly. "He's our cousin, you know, and she wasn't very nice to him at all, considering—no offense, Pepper—and now you're taking things a bit far, don't you think?"

"No, I really don't,"

"No offense taken," Pepper added breezily.

"So," Dominique grinned. "Did you do anything about the hair?"

Pepper laughed. "No, I haven't touched him, really—well, the nose I did,"

"You're the one that broke my cousin's nose?" Molly accused.

"Guess he got in the way," smirked Dominique.

"It was an accident," assured Pepper. "Believe me, I'm not looking to get into it with him—he's the one that starts these things up, acting like the prat he is,"

"I believe it," Dominique nodded. "He thinks he owns this place—it's _so_ disgusting. Tell you what, tip for the next time he pisses you off,"

"Dom," warned Molly, glancing up from her book.

"Jamie dearest has this bit of parchment, right. Old, frayed, when you see it, you know it. It's rarely never on his person, and it's very important to him, because it helps him get out of trouble,"

"A piece of parchment helps him?" Pepper asked skeptically.

"_Dom_,"

"Yes," said Dom, ignoring her cousin. "It's got information on it, like times when prefects are patrolling, where the roomiest snogging cupboards are, that sort of thing. He'd be a mess without it,"

Pepper hesitated. If this parchment was as important to Potter as Dominique and Molly were making it sound, than it sounded like stealing it was a bit like a declaration of war. Or worse, maybe it was all a trap, and James was having his cousin feed her false information. But when Pepper scrutinized her two dorm mates, she saw something that surprised her: they were being completely honest. Dominique had something against Potter, and she wasn't willing to fight him outright: she wanted to use Pepper to do it.

"…noted," said Pepper.

At least it was a good bit of intel for a rainy day.

* * *

**Hope everyone enjoys this new chapter! Sorry it took so long; i have a few chapters written, but it was hard to get to this one to edit adn i tried to upload like four times and i kept losing it and the format was all over the place.**

**So what did you think of Freddy's shenanigan? The Pepper/James interactions? The Pepper/Simon fight?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Declaration of War

Five days; it had been five days since Pepper had last spoken to her best friend, and she was more miserable now than ever. But pride kept her from going to him; each time the nagging thought telling her to talk to him arose, she banished it with the memory of his accusations of sleeping with James Potter (did Simon not know her at all?) and the fact that he'd lied to her about his living situation, which, for the life of her, she still couldn't figure out _why_ he'd do such a thing.

Unfortunately for Pepper her quarrel with her best friend was only the half of it. Since her return to school, the rumor mill hadn't been kind to her, and she had somehow become public enemy number one, and all because she'd dared stick up to golden boy James Potter. Apparently, no one thought it was impressive that Pepper had beaten Potter in an (admittedly unfair) duel, nor did they care that she had only done so to protect her best friend. No, people only cared that she'd broken Potter's nose—no one seemed to believe her when she swore up and down that it had already been slightly crooked and, if anything, she'd somehow corrected it a bit—and girls shot her ugly glares in the halls.

His month of detention also turned out to be her fault, _somehow_, and Gryffindor House seemed to hate her for it, because apparently it was her fault if the Captain was stressed and he couldn't schedule his practices at his leisure. His irksome fan club teased and taunted her in the halls, her roommate Ginger Vane hated her as rumors that she hooked up with Potter continued to circulate though she swore it had everything to do with Quidditch even though she didn't know a Quaffle from a Snitch, and the younger students, those that hadn't been at the party and therefore seen her duel, even tried to hex in her in the halls.

She had a surprising ally in Dominique Weasley; no one dared utter a word against her when the beautiful part-Veela was in her vicinity, and even Molly Weasley assigned detentions to students who hexed Pepper. Amoli Patil had pulled her aside one afternoon and warmly told her that it was okay, it happened—it was easy to get carried away with James Potter and suddenly be snogging him. Pepper had walked away from that conversation thoroughly disgusted.

On Tuesday a duo of sixth years had approached her; Albus Potter of Slytherin and Rose Weasley of Gryffindor. Neither had ever spoken to her before, and the red-headed of the two didn't really speak to her quite then, either. Rose merely laughed as Albus had extended his hand out to her.

"Pepper Hastings, yeah? Great things—you're doing _great _things, truly great," Albus Potter had told her, looking like a miniature version of the Harry Potter chocolate frog in her trunk as he vigorously shook her hand. Freddy Weasley always chatted away during their Potions classes, and Pepper only tolerated him because it appeared he was even better at Potions than she and Simon had been combined.

By Wednesday, more Slytherins were coming up to her and shaking her hand (or trying to, anyway; she hated physical contact) to thank her, as it had never been easier for Slytherin to book the Pitch in the evenings for practice. As angry as she was about the Quidditch rivalry, she also took a sick sense of pleasure in the fact that the Green Houses had an excellent view of the Pitch, and Potter wouldn't be able to miss Slytherin practicing on the Pitch that way, when he should have been out there.

James Potter, at least, was flat out ignoring her, which was probably a good thing, considering the longer she went without talking to Simon, the longer she wanted to hex Potter's face off.

Thursday came and only Care of Magical Creatures kept her sane. At least until class was over, and Pepper found Simon sitting on the front steps of the Entrance Hall, clearly waiting for her. Ordinarily, she would have stuck around to help Hagrid put away the equipment they'd used, but Potter, who was unfortunately in the class with her and without the buffer Freddy Weasley typically provided, had already started to do that, and so Pepper had quickly left.

She could have walked right past Simon; if it had been anyone else, she would have. But it had been five torturous days, and so all she did was drop down on the steps next to him as the sun began to set behind the castle. The air became significantly cooler, and she wrapped her cloak snugly around herself.

"So, fighting with you sucks. I see why I never do it," Simon said after a while. Pepper had to fight a smile; instead she forced herself not to react, not to throw her arms around her best friend like she really wanted to.

"And we're talking now, why?" asked Pepper. Simon sighed.

"I just—I heard about Potter," he said quietly. "Thought you might need a friend,"

"Might need—you mean five days after the fact?" demanded Pepper. "You're kidding, right?"

"Well I only found out this morning," Simon said defensively. "And we don't really talk about these things so—"

"Wait, what are you talking about?" asked Pepper, thrown for a loop.

Simon glanced at her anxiously; his hand caressed the strap of his messenger bag three times. "Heard he snogged some girl from Hufflepuff,"

Pepper blinked. "So?"

"So…" Simon flushed. "I mean, do you want to talk about it?"

"Since when have I ever cared to talk about James Potter's shagging habits?" demanded Pepper.

"I don't know, but I also didn't know you were interested in him, so…" Simon shrugged uncomfortably, his smile turned bitter. "So I don't know anything, I guess,"

"You idiot!" cried out Pepper. "I do _not_ fancy James Potter!"

"I—you don't?" flinched Simon. "So then do you regret sleeping with him?"

"I didn't sleep with him!"

"But I thought—"

"Well you thought _wrong!_" Pepper cried out vehemently. "Oh my _Godric_ I can't believe you thought—_never!_"

"Well what do I know?" Simon asked defensively. His cheeks had turned pink. "I mean, every girl at this school wants him, so I guess I just thought…"

"Forgetting the fact that I hate the guy," said Pepper. "You've known me since forever, what exactly about him do you think would make me want sleep with him? I mean, come on!"

"I dunno, I mean," Simon fidgeted uncomfortably. "He's built like a—well he's built, and he plays Quidditch, and he's stupidly good looking and he's not a bad student and—"

"I'm sorry, are you sure _you_ don't want to sleep with Potter?" laughed Pepper. The color in Simon's cheeks deepened.

"What, no! I'm just saying…"

"Okay, okay, even disregarding then the fact that _he_ hates _me_, what makes you think he'd ever try it on me?"

"I dunno—cause he has eyes?" retorted Simon. His answer caused Pepper to turn pink this time. An uncomfortable flutter opened up in her stomach. The idea that Simon thought any boy, much less one as popular as James Potter, would want to sleep with her simply on the basis of her physical appearance was both flattering and mystifying to her.

"Um, well anyway, no I did not sleep with him. That's just an insane notion," said Pepper. "I only went up to your—his—whatever dorm to find you, and then…" Pepper quickly explained what had happened to Simon. Simon hadn't really liked the part where she'd fallen asleep on Potter's bed, but he'd greatly enjoyed the part where she'd broken his nose and had asked for her to repeat that bit in great detail.

"So why don't you live there? _Where_ do you live?" asked Pepper.

"Ugh—fine. Promise you won't be mad?" said Simon.

"Shoot," said Pepper.

"Remember how last year, there was that study abroad student from Bulgaria?" Simon asked hesitantly.

"Um, yes, Simon, I remember _Aleksander Krum, _the of _Victor Krum_ coming to our school for a year," Pepper said with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, well he's good friends with Potter I guess, and Potter and his friends wanted him to dorm with them—but he was a sixth year, see, so…"

Anger exploded in her veins. Pepper's hands curled into fists where they had been resting on her knees. "Tell me they didn't," she said quietly.

"I just—they wanted their friend there, I get that, and I was basically the weird mute of a fifth wheel that lived with them, and it wasn't that big of a deal, not really—"

"They forced you out of your dorm! You'd lived there for five years and they just what, made you leave? How is that not a big deal? Such entitled pricks!" Pepper said hotly. "Who does that?"

"It wasn't so bad," mumbled Simon. "The sixth years were nice to me after a while, and now they all think I'm sort of cool and…"

"You told me you were on good terms with them because you were tutoring them!" exclaimed Pepper. "You lied to me?"

"No!" Simon said quickly. "No, never! I did tutor them, I just didn't tell you about dorming with them—but Pepper, come on! How could I have told you?"

"Um, using your words? I would have settled for a thoughtfully labeled diagram," she said dryly.

"Merlin, Pep—look, I love you more than anything, you know I do, and I know you love me—but that's kind of the problem sometimes!" said Simon.

Pepper blanched. "Sorry?"  
"It's just, you're always rushing to be my knight in shining armor. And I know you mean well, but sometimes I just need to figure things out for myself, you know? You don't know this, but I spent our first few years here getting teased because I had to hide behind a girl? Don't give me that look, I know it's sexist, but the truth is, boy, girl, it doesn't matter—I never fight my own battles when I have you around. You're always ready to come in, wand blazing, and it becomes a whole thing,"

"Like when?" argued Pepper. "Besides this Potter business, which was basically only one time _weeks ago. _I'm refuse to count the dormitory bit since you don't actually live there,"

"Um, I dunno—The Czechs at the bar last summer?"

"That wasn't for you—that creepy bloke slapped my ass!"

"The Slytherins at the Three Broomsticks fifth year?"

"They were ganging up on you!"

"They were first years, for Merlin's sake!"

"Okay, fine," said Pepper. "So tell me, Mr. Confrontation, did you put up a fight when Potter and his little posse banished you from the seventh year dorm _where you rightfully belong_?"

Simon sighed in frustration. "Not everything has to be a fight, Pepper!"

Pepper made to retort, but she snapped her mouth shut in an effort to prevent another bitter argument.

"I didn't tell you because I wanted to avoid exactly what happened—you going after Potter and it blowing up in our faces! You hex first and ask questions later, and when I said I wanted to mix things up a bit, this _really_ wasn't what I was thinking! Now look where we are!"

"Oh, so this is my fault?" Pepper asked bitterly. "Great, just great,"

"No, its our fault," Simon said tiredly. "I should have been upfront with you. Because even if you have my best interest at heart, Pepper, I have to figure some things out for myself, yeah? Without you dueling the most popular prat in school. Promise you won't get all mad and go looking for him to hex him,"

She wanted to make a cheeky comment about how she didn't have to go look for him as Pepper's eyes tracked the movement of James Potter as he left Hagrid's hut and started towards them. His shoulders were hunched in against the cool evening breeze, head bent down low.

"I won't go hexing him," murmured Pepper. "And I won't get mad,"

But she'd get even.

* * *

It was all too easy to manipulate Freddy Weasley. All she had to do was let him think that he was finally wearing her down, that he was actually charming her. Despite his cousin's outright hatred of her, he had no qualms about cozying up to her in the Potions classroom, or greeting her in the corridors, going as far as sitting with her occasionally at mealtimes. Simon thought it was annoying and greatly disliked Freddy; Pepper had asked him what had happened to his No Regret Pact; Potter, on these odd occasions, would make sure to sit far from his cousin.

And if Pepper just so happened to mention the No Regret Pact right in front of the perpetually curious Freddy Weasley, then _oops._

"Um, why is your cousin glaring daggers at me like I killed his owl?" Pepper asked Freddy one evening once she'd recovered from her laughter. Simon rolled his eyes at her; he'd been somewhat alarmed when she'd pretended to find Freddy funny all day. But what had started as pretend had morphed into actual laughter, and Pepper wasn't sure if she was just going insane or if Freddy Weasley really was a funny, charming bastard. How dare he sneak into her good graces?

"He's just jealous since I'm sitting here with you," Freddy said cheerfully. Simon began choking on something; Pepper turned to him in concern, thumping him on the back a few times.

"You all right, mate?" Pepper's eyes nearly bugged out of her head when they were joined by Malachi Thomas. Freddy was one thing, since she was sort of using him for her plan and it was all therefore a fluke, but when the fuck had two of the most popular boys in school started sitting with them?

"M'fine," coughed out Simon. Malachi at least put him more at ease than when Freddy was around; to be fair, Freddy was a loose cannon, so Pepper couldn't blame him. Freddy had insisted on walking them to Charms the other day and they'd ended up in the middle of a balloon fight with Peeves; Simon had spent all day cursing the day Freddy Weasley entered their lives, but Pepper had caught him making a note in his journal where The List was located when he thought she wasn't looking, and she thought that the impromptu adventure had pleased him greatly.

"What the hell is Potter jealous of?" asked Pepper as casually as she could manage. "More steak, Freddy?"  
"Please," said Freddy, clearly pleased she'd thought to ask. "He doesn't like me sitting with you, pretty sure because he f—_fuck!_" he called out. Pepper narrowed her eyes at a suddenly angelic looking Malachi Thomas, who had struck a hasty conversation up with Simon. If she wasn't mistaken, Malachi had just kicked one of his dearest friends in the shin just then. "Pretty sure its because he's afraid I'll like you more than him. You _are_ a good deal better to look at,"

"Here, here," said Malachi Thomas with a laugh.

"Oi, that's my best friend you gits are objectifying!" defended Simon.

"Thank you Simon," Pepper said demurely. "Huh, speaking of Potter—not that I think you should, but why don't you want to pummel Si's face in? He made out with your best friend's girlfriend,"

Malachi and Freddy exchanged a look. "Well," said Freddy. "It helped that Simon told Potter what happened that night,"

"You did?" Pepper asked in surprise. It as the first she'd heard of it. Simon nodded three times in quick succession.

"During detention the other day," he murmured. "We um…we weren't talking, you and me,"

Pepper wondered if that was his odd way of fighting his own battles or whatever.

"Yeah, and it really, really helps that we were all hoping James would chuck her soon. She's so annoying," added Freddy. "Bloody hot, obviously, but she's terrible. 'Course, after we kept harping on him to do it, he was pretty stubbornly not going to do it, so it was this whole thing—"

"—so in a really weird, really twisted way, I guess we owe Simon," concluded Malachi.

"Oh that's fucked up," said Pepper.

"Thanks Llewellyn!" said Freddy, reaching around Pepper's back to clap Simon on the shoulder. Simon's entire body shook with the force of Freddy's clap. But Pepper beamed, because Freddy had called her best friend by his proper name—even if it was his last name, and that had to be some sort of progress, right?

"Ow, that hurt!" said Simon, pushing the Beater's hand off of him.

"Yeah, well, he's still my cousin and my best mate, and you might not have made the first move, but you definitely kissed her back, so," Freddy shrugged.

_Ah-ha! Bingo!_

"Oh nuh-uh! So not far!" defended Pepper, having seen the opening she'd been trying to orchestrate conversation towards. Simon nodded at her in thanks, having missed the diabolical gleam in her eye. "It's not his fault he kissed her back!"

"How is it not his fault?" laughed Malachi. "Someone kisses you so you either push them away, or you kiss them back. Simple as that,"

"Oh sure, in _theory_," said Pepper. "Let's be real here—if a teenage boy finds a girl kissing him, he won't care who she is, where she's from, or what her name is. Instinct will always compel him to kiss her back,"

"So not true!" argued Malachi. "You make us sound so, so simple-minded and shallow,"  
"Definitely hormone driven!" argued Pepper. "What girl do you hate? If she came up to you and kissed you, you'd kiss her back without thinking twice. Sure, you'd come to your senses eventually, but not after you actively started kissing the person back. It's practically science. Boys are just always craving physical intimacy,"

Freddy was getting a suspicious glint in his eyes that Pepper pretended not to see.

"Well I don't hate anyone, so that's different," Malachi argued back. "Not that I'm conceding you're right, but it's _different,_"

"It's really not," said Pepper. "Sorry, but you boys really _are_ that simple. I'm willing to bet money on this,"

"Yeah all right, I'll take you up on that bet," said Freddy. The look of mischief in his dark brown eyes had caught the attention of Simon.

"Merlin _no, _Pepper, back away while you still can," warned Simon. "I might not have roomed with him last year, but I lived with these gits for five years. You have no idea what they're capable of,"

"You know I never back down from a challenge, Si," said Pepper, meeting Freddy's dark eyes. "Name it,"

"All right—if you win, twenty galleons to you. If _I_ win, you make a convincing apology to James about what happened at his birthday party,"

Pepper's smirk evaporated on the spot. "What? No!"

"Expect to lose, Hastings?" challenged Freddy, eyes burning brighter.

_Fuck, _cursed Pepper. She'd been so focused on her goal that she hadn't stopped to consider that maybe Freddy Weasley wasn't so easy to play; that maybe she'd played right into _his_ hands. Was she willing to take that bet? She already knew what the bet would be, knew exactly what Freddy would bet her—it was what she'd needed, what he'd think she'd never want to do. It would serve as her alibi and her chance at getting the one thing she wanted more than anything. But with the stakes raised so high, did she dare? The thought of apologizing to James Potter made her skin crawl.

"He doesn't even know my name," argued Pepper. "He called me Parsley the other day, when I was blocking the portrait hole,"

"Trust me," laughed Malachi. "He knows your name. He has no problem using it when he's cursing you out to us,"

"Besides, didn't you just say boys aren't thinking about names?" prompted Freddy. "I didn't take you for all talk, Pepper Hastings,"

"Guys—what's happening? What has everyone put together that I haven't?" asked Simon. There was slight panic in his voice.

Pepper pursed her lips, nails drumming on the tabletop for a moment. She took a resolute breath, steadying her fast-paced heart.

"Well, Simon, I'm going to snog James Potter, and he better like it, because there's no way I'm going to be wrong _and _apologize to him,"

A platter of chips was sent flying.

"Merlin you're clumsy, Llewellyn!"

* * *

Dinner was uneventful after Pepper and Freddy finalized the terms of their bet. Simon remained quiet as Malachi sulked that he would be missing out on the fun and the likely duel that would follow, but Freddy had agreed with Pepper that an audience wouldn't be fair, as it would tip Potter off that something wasn't quite right—after all, having his fresh new enemy walk up and snog him would be alarming enough.

Freddy had made the rules very simple

1\. Pepper or anyone else aware of the bet could not tip of Potter

2\. Pepper had to make the first move (Pepper had laughed at that; who else would?)

3\. Potter had to be the one to break the kiss

4\. The kiss had to last at least five seconds. (He'd shot for seven, Pepper negotiated for three, and they'd compromised at five)

"This is stupid," Simon said for the umpteenth time as they all walked to Green House 3. He and Potter had their nightly detentions with Professor Longbottom, which was far better than having to polish the Trophy Room; with students having been gone for nearly three months, the Trophy Room had collected so much dust it was the White Whale of detentions.

"You said that already,"

"What if he hexes her? What if he hits her?" he continued.

Freddy sighed, starting to get annoyed. "Trust me when I say that girls do this to him more than you might think. He's not going to do either—at worst, he'll push her away and, since its Hastings, yell a bit and then walk off. Seems to be their thing anyway, so what's the harm?"

"They don't have a thing!" Simon exclaimed scathingly. "And this is stupid,"

"Mate, you're starting to sound like a broken record," said Freddy. He glanced at his watch. "All right, you two chat—I'm going to go hide in that bush so I can perve—I mean observe from afar,"

Freddy darted off, leaving them outside of Green House 3. Pepper shivered in her robes; it was colder than she expected, with the sun down. She'd left her scarf in her dorm, not having yet pulled it out of her trunk.

"You know, when I had you promise not to hex him I didn't mean for you to run off and snog him," Simon said bitterly.

"It's just a stupid bet, Si," sighed Pepper.

"Yeah, that _you_ orchestrated!" Simon whispered hotly. "Don't think I don't know when you're plotting! I was right, wasn't I? You fancy him!"

"Oh don't be ridiculous! If you must know, I'm doing a favor for a friend," said Pepper.

"Really?" Simon said flatly. "That's what you're going with? Because I'm your only friend and I haven't asked you for any favors,"

"Okay, an acquaintance, and I'll fill you in later—oh shit, here he comes. Fuck. Oh _Merlin_ what was I thinking? I have to kiss that git?"

"You really don't," Simon deadpanned.

"I'm not apologizing to him!"

"Here's an idea—forget about it all and stop hanging out with Freddy Weasley!"

"But then how would I get—Good evening, Potter!"

James Potter glanced up from the ground he had been glaring at in surprise; his eyes landed on Pepper, then on Simon.

"Not really, since you're _both_ here," said Potter. Simon made a strangled noise and disappeared into the Green House, apparently unwilling or unable to watch the events about to unfold. When Potter made to follow, Pepper reached a hand out to his forearm to stop him.

"Wait!"

Potter's glare crawled from the hand on his forearm up to her face. Suddenly Pepper felt a little lightheaded, staring up at him; his dark hair was perfectly messy around his head, and soft looking too; his green eyes crackled with a sort of _joie de vivre _that became entrancing, and she found herself swallowing hard. Why weren't her eyelashes that pretty?

She'd never kissed a boy before; what made her think she could kiss this particulate one?

"Um, evening," she said weakly, feeling very foolish all of a sudden. How was it that she had been so focused on accomplishing her ultimate goal that she hadn't actually considered what she'd have to do to get there, namely the actual kissing part, and her complete lack of experience in the field? Simon was worried that Potter might hit or hex her—for the first time in a long time, Pepper felt very young and ill-equipped to handle what she might to if James Potter laughed at her.

"Yeah, you mentioned that," Potter said, his voice dripping with irritation. "Now if you don't mind, Rosemary—" He broke off, and Pepper wondered if she'd missed something, because she realized she'd been staring at his pink mouth for the last second, maybe more. When her eyes flicked up to meet his, his green eyes had grown as dark as the surface of the Black Lake, and every bit as depthless. She took half a step forward.

His aftershave smelled good. _Really good._

"What are you doing?" murmured Potter, his voice considerably huskier than it had been a moment ago.

"I have no idea," Pepper said honestly. Then she perched her hands flat on his broad, muscular chest to steady her as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.

Potter's mouth was warm against hers, and she nearly pulled away, forgetting the bet as her embarrassment threatened to do her in—was her mouth even in the right place? Should she have tilted her head more? It was such an awkward and clumsy attempt at a kiss that she knew the bet was over before it had even started—surely he would be recoiling in disgust any second now?

Potter moved away—no, he moved his mouth, just so, and suddenly the position was more comfortable, and his mouth was moving furiously against hers. One of his hands slid to the small of her back to draw her closer, and her gasp of surprise allowed him to slip his tongue in her mouth.

_Oh_.

Pepper suddenly understood the hype behind this whole snogging thing. Potter's mouth was warm and wet and somehow pleasantly so, and she could taste the treacle tart he'd had for dessert; the knowledge made her blush for some reason.

Someone made a funny little moaning sound, and she realized with horror that it was _her_; Potter didn't seem to mind it. In fact, when he heard it, he pulled her even closer, one of his hands clutching her waist as the other snaked into her hair, twisting in her ginger-brown locks as he crushed her to him.

Her hands; her hands were in the way, and they were being uncomfortably crushed between their chests. With some difficulty she slid them free, sliding them up his chest where they found purchase around his neck. Then, as she realized _oh yeah, I'm snogging James Potter and he hasn't pushed me away yet, _she let her hands wander. Over his muscled shoulders, his chest, his back, even going as far as dipping her hands over the most muscular arse she'd ever had the pleasure of touching—

—Potter seemed to take that as an invitation to do the same. She quickly returned her hands to his neck, feeling accomplished, but Potter wasn't done. One hand squeezed her arse and the other fought with her robes to slip beneath the fabric of her shirt, and she made another funny little noise he seemed to like and—

"Merlin, James, let the girl breathe, won't you?"

They sprang apart; Pepper, feeling frazzled and embarrassed, quickly wrapped her, cloak tighter about her, realizing that they'd been caught snogging by Professor Longbottom.

"Shit. Neville, Hi," said Potter, looking far less concerned with the fact that he'd been caught by a Professor than he did when he glanced her way and realized he'd been snogging Pepper Hastings. The look of shock and alarm was very clear in his eyes.

_That is, if he even remembers that's my name_, she thought bitterly. Feeling something crackle beneath her robes, she realized that she had accomplished what she had set out to do, but what happened with Freddy's bet? Had that even been five seconds? Who had pulled away first? She loved Longbottom, she did, but in that moment she wanted to strangle him. She was _so _not going to have snogged Potter _and_ apologize to him. There was no way.

"Erm—I'll leave, then," she said brightly—brightly because she was certain her face was redder than a fire salamander. She peeked at Potter; he was still in some sort of stupor, and she quickly made her apologies to the Professor and booked it.

Freddy jogged towards her out of the darkness halfway back to the school. He was in stitches.

"That was awful! And Longbottom? Merlin's sake, you couldn't have given us a bit of warning?" she seethed.

"I did. I threw pebbles at the window you were standing right outside of—one even hit James's shoulder, not that he seemed to notice," smirked Freddy.

"Ugh," groaned Pepper. "I know we pulled away about the same time but—that had to count, right? That was at least ten seconds of kissing, maybe fifteen, I dunno,"

This set Freddy off on another round of laughter. "Fifteen seconds? You're a right laugh, you know that, Pepper Hastings? You and Jamsie were snogging about two whole minutes, and not more only because Longbottom showed up! I actually looked away when the groping started"

"You're lying," Pepper said flatly. _Two whole minutes? That couldn't have been one! _"There's not way that…And there wasn't any groping!"

Freddy wrapped his arms around himself and made very inappropriate kissing noises. Pepper made a frustrated noise and stalked back up to the castle. But as Freddy continued to laugh as they made their way back to the Common Room, her fingertips brushed over her lips. They felt swollen to the touch, and very hot. She had just had her first kiss, and with her professed enemy no less.

"…since we left dinner a bit early, want to crash the kitchens for some dessert?" Freddy was asking her.

"I'm suddenly in the mood for treacle tart," agreed Pepper. She was still in something of a daze. She hoped her blush wasn't noticeable.

And, as Freddy led the way, Pepper carefully pocketed the ancient, fraying bit of parchment she'd nicked from Potter's back pocket into the inside pocket of her cloak.

If Dominique Weasley had been right about how much this meant to him, then, well…he was _so_ going to freak.

Pepper: 2 Potter 1

* * *

Sorry this is so late, but I've just gone through a really, really big move! So what do you think of this latest installment? Drop me a review to let me know!


	4. Chapter 4

Previously: Pepper snogged James so that she could steal something from him, the Marauder's map. Except she doesn't actually know what it is that she's stolen, only that she's getting back at him for being a jerk to Simon.

"James,"

James Potter's eyes snapped up to the amused blue eyes of Professor Neville Longbottom. Although he was a family friend and considered to be yet another uncle to the Potter and Weasley children, Professor Longbottom tried very hard to separate his role of professor and adopted uncle. The children appreciated this too; no one wanted to be accused of favoritism. And so, for Professor Longbottom to address him as James and not Mr. Potter or Potter, James knew something was definitely up.

"Ah...what?" he asked, even as his eyes darted back to Pepper Hasting's arse as she scampered back towards the castle. He saw a dark shape meet her halfway there, causing him to frown. He'd know his cousin Freddy anywhere-what was he doing, lurking about in the dark like that? Had he seen the kiss? If he had, there was no way he's let him live that down.

"James," Professor Longbottom said once more, his tone a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Seriously, must have been some kiss, mate,"

It certainly had been some kiss, all right. His body was hot beneath the collar of his robes like he'd just finished a particularly intense Quidditch match and won, and his mouth tasted of the spicy tingle of Pepper Hasting's cinnamon chapstick. He hated cinnamon, yet he kept catching himself licking his lips.

"You're already in enough trouble as it is, so I'll let you off with a reminder about the rules concerning snogging and inappropriate conduct, yeah?" said Professor Longbottom as he headed into Greenhouse 3, careful not to step on any of the plants that lined the floors as he did.

"She kissed me!" he said defensively.

Professor Longbottom threw a glance his way; the arched eyebrows told him that he did not believe him one bit.

"It's true!" exclaimed James. Even as he said it, a smile was tugging at his lips. It did sound ridiculous to his own ears. He wouldn't have believed it if it had not just happened to him. "How is that so hard to believe? I'm the son of Harry Potter, don't you know? Girls are always throwing themselves at me!"

Simon Lewis, sitting at the desk closest to the door, snorted. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Git.". James narrowed his eyes at him, but the brunet boy hadn't even glanced up from his book. He was clutching it in a white-knuckled grip, his jaw clenched tightly, and James figured that he was only trying to give off the illusion of being busy. The book was upside down, after all.

"What, you upset you didn't get a pre-detention snog from Persimmon, too?" taunted James. Simon's eyes flashed to him, narrowing hatefully. That was probably the strongest bit of emotion James could recall seeing from the typically meek Gryffindor; even when James had been threatening him over the summer, he hadn't had this much bite. Simon had only spoken to him once during their handful of detentions, and that had been a mumured excuse, "I didn't really kiss your girlfriend." As fucking if.

"That's not even a spice, you prat," said Simon. "Are you really so thick that you've already run out of spices to call her when you pretend not to know her name?"

James rolled his eyes. Professor Longbottom pursed his lips, considering the two of Gryffindors carefully. "You do realize that the purpose of these detentions is to get the pair of you to get along, right?"

"Really? And here I thought we were to get punished for blowing up half the potions dungeons and sending fellow students to the hospital wing," Simon said so dryly that Professor Longbottom cracked a smile.

"Yeah, that too," he said. James's eyes narrowed at him; oh, so Longbottom as chummy with that git? "I'd keep what I said in mind, Simon,"

And oh, first names too, was it?

"Look, boys, Grey's already on the warpath because I took over detention for you too. She think's, being your Head of House, I'll be too lenient on you. Not that she would have been able to have you polish silver like she'd originally wanted, since the most peculiar thing has happened to the door to the Trophy Room-not that you'd know anything about that, would you, Mr. Potter?"

Back to Mr. Potter, was it?

"Haven't the foggiest, for once," said James. And he didn't; he hadn't played a prank since he'd gotten back to school, actually. Between school, Quidditch and the detentions he'd been too drained to be mischievous; he hoped no one told his Uncle George, who'd likely spend the next decade weeping in sorrow.

"I just find it particularly peculiar that after Professor Grey threatened you both with a month of polishing silver, the door to the Trophy Room became mysteriously sealed the very same afternoon," said Longbottom. If James was seeing correctly, Simon was smirking triumphantly down at his hands. But there was absolutely no way that Simon Lewis of all people had pulled of such a thing, right? Longbottom was too busy staring at James to notice.

"Oh, come off it, Professor," groaned James. "You know I don't take credit for pranks I don't do. I'm more decent than that,"

Again, Simon snorted. Evidently he thought that the word decent was very funny.

"Fortunately for you, that door is still sealed and we haven't been able to track down the culprit," said Professor Longbottom. "Besides, silver can be polished with a flick of a wand. I'd rather you boys used your time more constructively, which is why you'll be working in here this week,"

"I will warn you now," And here their Professor turned stern. "If Grey doesn't see some real changes in the way you two interact, she'll assign more detention. As she tells it, she hasn't been pleased with your coursework this week, and she needs to see a better effort on your behalf,"

"What she needs is to get laid." Simon muttered so quietly that only James could hear. Had it been anyone else, he would have laughed.

"So, I don't think I need to explain what you're doing tonight, do ?" asked Longbottom as he gestured to the table near the front of the room. There was an array of tools spread out and, on the floor between the two chairs was a wooden trough full of shrivelfigs. "Remember to strain the liquid, and we want the flowers whole, not destroyed,"

He left them soon after. Simon was the first to move forward, taking a seat at the table at the front of the greenhouse and picking up a set of pruning sheers. James followed after him, taking a seat somewhat gingerly as he eyed the tools dubiously. Simon had already cut through the first shrivelfig by the time he realized James had yet to move.

"Unbelievable-look here, Potter, I may be all right with doing all the work in Potions, but that's because some of us have to do actual work in order to pass. That won't, however, fly here-"

"Oh sod off, Lewis," said James. Simon glowered at him. "And for the record, I'd love to do more in Potions, but you freak out if I so much as reach for a knife, much less a ladle to, Merlin forbid, stir a bloody potion!"

"That's because you're not precise," said Simon. James noticed him open and close the sheers in his hands three times. The movement wasn't threatening...yet. "Not to mention that you're no good in classes you can't bullshit your way through, namely Potions and Herbology,"

James felt himself blush despite himself. It was true that those were his worst subjects, but it wasn't from a lack of trying. "I was good enough to get into their NEWTS, wasn't I?"

Simon laughed bitterly. "Just because you get into things, doesn't mean you earn them or deserve them,"

"You're starting to piss me off, you know?" said James. He wasn't sure who this bloke thought he was; he'd only ever been the quiet, strange kid that shared a dorm with him and his hates and kept to himself at all costs, at least until he'd decided to go and snog James's girlfriend. "I don't know what the hell you have against me-"

"I can owl you an itemized list, if you like," Simon said smartly. He was still refusing to look at him, his hands nearly shaking as he drained shrivelfig juice through a strainer. Its sickly sweet and sour smell filled the air. "Though, maybe not-my owl's female, and you might snog her too,"

"You kissed my girl, I kissed yours! Is that what your problem is? Not to mention, your girl kissed me!"

"She's not my girl," muttered Simon gruffly, his movements particularly violent as he shucked yet another shrivelfig. And there is was: it struck James like a thunderbolt, so obvious he wasn't sure how he'd missed it before.

"No shit," said James, a little in awe. "But you want her to be."

Simon was so taken aback by his comment that he knocked the bowl of shrivelfig skins over. Only James's Seeker reflexes saved them; he caught the bowl neatly in one hand. Simon didn't seem to care; he'd risen to his feet to tower over him, his face blotchy red as his hands shook.

"You don't know a damn thing about me! So don't think you can sit there and think you've got me all figured out, not when, after six bloody years, you don't even know that my name isn't Lewis, but bloody Llewellyn!"

"Are you sure? Because I could have sworn even professors call you Lew-"

"Oh sure, because even bloody professors think I'm a nobody! You just don't get it, do you?" snapped Simon. "You get pissy when someone even slightly infers you got where you are because of your name, but guess what-there are worse things! At least people bloody well see you! Professors know you who you are, they get your name right in class, you're bloody Quidditch captain, girls walk up to you and want to snog you-but me? I'm fucking invisible! I can be the only person in the room with my hand raised and professors still won't see me, people walk into me in the halls, my dorm mates made me move out of my own bed so they could really act like I didn't exist, and my best friend can't even see that I've been hopelessly in love with her for the past six years because she's too busy treating me like her hopeless kid brother!"

After that explosion of anger and emotion, Simon dropped back into his chair, looking very pale and defeated as he stared at the ground miserably. James wasn't sure if he was supposed to be angry that Simon had decided that yelling at him was a good way to address all the problems in his life, but all he really felt was like a complete jerk.

"Um, wow," said James, reaching up to tug at his hair. "Look-about the dorm thing..."

"Whatever," said Simon, turning back to the focus of their detention. "I got over it a long time ago,"

"Evidently not," said James. For a moment, he chewed on his bottom lip, deliberating his next words. "You just don't really know the whole story-which isn't your fault of course, but you should know the circumstances,"

"Circumstances?" Simon said bitterly. "I get it-on the one hand you have son of a Quidditch legend, Aleksander Krum, on the other you have the weird, quiet kid no one understands how he was sorted into Gryffindor. I can connect the dots pretty well, thanks."

James winced-so yes, he and the other guys had wondered on more than occasion just what the Sorting Hat had been thinking, putting a bloke like him anywhere but Ravenclaw. Only, he hadn't realized that Simon had overheard them. Was that what he meant about being invisible? Shame gripped him.

"I can say this now because...look, if you followed Quidditch at all, you'd have seen that Aleksander came out over the summer-"

"-Yeah, I know," Simon interrupted irritably. "You don't have the monopoly on being a Quidditch fan,"

"Right," said James, starting to get a little annoyed. "The thing is, his dad had no idea. Alek has known for a few years now, and when rumors started spreading at Durmstrang, his dad got really pissed off and pulled him out. Alek didn't dare tell his dad the rumors were true, because he'd realized that his dad was a bit of a homophobe, so when he transferred here, well, he was pretty depressed. I only knew the truth because he'd tried to kiss me the summer before. We hadn't talked since then, and I knew he was freaking out about being in the same school as me, on top of everything else that was going on. I thought I'd make things easier for him by being a friend. Alek realized that I wasn't like his father, when I had no problem sharing a room with him, or just talking to him, being his friend, and when he realized he had me and Freddy and other people in his corner, he got better. He got more comfortable with himself, and he even came out to his dad. And well, you've seen the paper, so you'll know all about his boyfriend,"

James waited worriedly for a moment, unable to predict Simon's reaction.

"Fucking Pepper-she was right," muttered Simon, shaking his head. "She called it a mile off-she knew he was gay!"

"Hastings knew?" James asked in surprise. He certainly hadn't suspected a thing-then again, he'd never really been the type to sit and gossip about those kinds of things either. It had taken Krum trying to-well, actually kissing him for it to click in his head that maybe his friend wasn't straight.

"Yeah, and she thought there was something going on between you two for the longest time-she's been convinced you're not entirely straight for about two years now-"

"What?"

"And she thought the only reasonable explanation for anyone to actually date Callista Brown was that they needed a gay beard," finished Simon. "Merlin, she's going to be absolutely insufferable when she finds out. Smug, that one is,"

"She thought I was gay-well, bet she doesn't think that now," smirked James. He winced at the incensed look on Simon's face. "Er right, sorry about that mate."

"I'm not your mate," said Simon. "Listen, I get that you were trying to be a good friend with the dorm thing-be noble or whatever. But look at it from my point of view, won't you? I had no idea why you were kicking me out, all I knew was that one day my stuff wasn't in my room anymore and Krum had moved his things where mine had been,"

"What, and the conversation you and Freddy had was Obliviated from your memory?" asked James.

"What conversation?"

"I told him to talk to you about it!" said James. "He said you were cool about it!"

"Cool with-he didn't talk to me! None of you did!"

"Us? It's not like you were ever an open book with us, either, Lew-Llewellyn. I don't know if you realized this, but you give off this pretty intense judgmental vibe,"

"Excuse me?"

"That's why I didn't talk to you myself. Always got the sense you didn't like me much," James shrugged. "Everyone likes Freddy, so I thought it would be best to have him do it!"

"Well he never did, not unless you call 'congratulations, you're dorming with the ickle fivesies!' talking to me about it,"

James groaned-why had he trusted Freddy with anything, ever?

"Why didn't you say anything? Hell, you could have gone to Longottom about it, if you didn't want to talk to us about it!" exclaimed James. "I mean, if it bothered you, why just let it happen?"

"You just don't get it," said Simon, shaking his head eyes on the point of his shears as he traced a long crack in the wood of surface of the table.

They settled into silence. Finally Simon sighed. "Do you really not remember how to do this?"

"Nope," said James, grinning bashfully. "Though I think I got my first crush second year, so I think I spent most of Herbology staring at Mimi Abbott,"

"Of course you did," said Simon. "Look, it's easy, you just have to make sure that you don't cut through the whole thing-have you ever cut an avocado?..."

After Simon showed him how to properly prune the shrivelfigs, they settled into quiet work. It wasn't a completely comfortable silence by any means, but it was less tense than when they'd first sat down at least.

It was enough that James's mind began to wander as he tasted cinnamon on his tongue once more. He had just snogged Pepper Hastings-no, she'd just snogged him. Why? He couldn't really picture her fancying him. She didn't exactly give off the vibe that she acted pissy at him all the time in a vain attempt to play hard to get, not like other girls had tried with him.

But you kissed her back, he reminded himself. James wasn't too sure how long that kiss had lasted-everything was a bit of a blur-but he suspected it might still be going on had Longbottom not interrupted. It had been, well, it had been one hell of a kiss certainly, even if it had been with Hastings of all people.

"I didn't kiss Callista,"

"What?" Lost in thought as he was, James wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly.

"I said, I didn't kiss Callista," said Simon.

"No offense-you're saying my girlfriend came onto you?" said James. Then again, Callista snogging Simon was in the same realm of possibility as Hastings snogging him, and well, that had happened, so who knew anymore? But he'd heard this already, and he hadn't believed it a few days ago, either.

"I wouldn't believe me either," admitted Simon. "Pepper and I were about to leave the party, but I had to go to the loo. I ended up coming across her. She was crying and really drunk, and she was alone so I asked her if she was okay and if she wanted me to go get someone for her. She said she just needed a hug and then she was crying against and then she kissed me,"

"You kissed her back," accused James. "And no offense, but you had to know that she had a boyfriend. We weren't exactly a secret couple,"

"Of course I knew," said Simon. "And honestly, that wasn't really what concerned me so much as the fact that she was drunk off her arse. I haven't kissed many girls, all right? So yes, I started to kiss her back for like, a split second, that was the instinctual thing, you know? Then I remembered that she was drunk, I was pretty tipsy-I thought about Pepper, and then Wood walked in...and you know the rest,"

James sat back in his chair, considering Simon's words. He hadn't talked to Callista since that night; he hadn't exactly cared to hear her side of the story, and she hadn't tried to talk to him much either, not unless he was willing to count how she hiked her skirt up her thighs anytime he walked by. Which he was unwilling to do. He had the impression Callista was waiting for him to crack and make the first move; he sincerely hoped she wasn't holding her breath.

"I'm sorry, for what it's worth," Simon said rather unexpectedly. "It was just a shitty situation. And we didn't know it was your birthday, either,"

"And by 'we' I'm supposed to take it mean you and Hastings," said James. He cocked his head to the side. "Are you sure Hastings didn't know? Because she seems to enjoy humiliating me,"

"Pepper is very..."

"Fiery? Sassy? Hot-tempered?" offered James. "Batshit?"

"I was going to go with protective," said Simon with a frown.

James considered the seventh year Gryffindor for a moment, the witch with the wild ginger curls and contrasting cocoa skin and very soft, very full lips. "Kinda hot, though I suppose, like she's pissing you off the point you want to hex her mouth shut, but you're also wondering what she looks like naked-"

"Oi," Simon said sharply. "That's my best mate you're talking about,"

James laughed. "What I mean is, from a physical standpoint, I can see why you're into her. Beyond that, I just don't get it,"

"Don't worry, she's not your biggest fan either, so she won't be taking that as a loss anytime soon," said Simon. At James's skeptical look, Simon laughed.

"I'm sorry, you don't actually think she kissed you because she fancied you, do you?"

James's cheeks grew hot as Simon continued to laugh at him. He tossed a bit of shrivelfig at him; it hit Simon square on the nose.

"Careful! This stuff'll stain your skin for days!"

"So why did Hastings sexually assault me then?" asked James.

Simon threw him a dirty look. "You say that like you didn't enjoy yourself!"

"I-" James broke off when Simon shot him a look. "Fine, it wasn't the worst snog in the world. Now tell me why it even happened,"

Simon shrugged. "Freddy made a bet with her,"

"Of course he did," groaned James. He felt like an idiot for thinking-even momentarily-that Hastings really did have a thing for him. And he should have suspected Freddy's involvement immediately; he had noticed that his cousin had been spending an unprecedented amount of time with the girl, and Freddy had always enjoyed pranking and teasing his cousins most of all. "So how does it work? You and Hastings?"

"What do you mean?"

James paused for a moment, his focus on cutting through a particularly tough shrivelfig skin. "Being best mates with a girl. Have you two ever fooled around?"

"Why would you even say that?" Simon exclaimed.

James smirked. "Did you forget how we got landed in detention in the first place? You seemed to know exactly what birthmark I was talking about,"

Simon's face was as red as phoenix feathers. "Yeah but not, but not like that,"

"You wish it was,"

"Shut up!"

"Okay, okay!" laughed James, backing off when he saw that Simon wasn't laughing alongside him. "So?"

"So nothing," said Simon. James was surprised when the conversation didn't die there. "It's just, she's my best friend, you know? And it's always been just us, and the only girls she's ever really hung out with are her sisters, and she doesn't get on with them, so she's always grown up a bit more tomboy. She's...fuck,"

"What?" James asked curiously.

"You know how some girls know they're really fit? Or at they very least, they know that when they're wearing a low cut top, you can't really help but look?"

"Callista," said James with a snort. "Uses her looks like a lethal weapon,"

"That's the thing about Pepper," said Simon, voice brimming with frustration. "She has absolutely no clue about the effect she has on the opposite sex. She thinks that because she's not conventionally attractive, not like Callista or her sisters or Dominique Weasley, then blokes don't like her like that. Like when she flipped you off at dinner,"

James laughed, remembering the way the girl had sucked on her middle finger when she flipped him off. The action had actually been quite suggestive, and so surprisingly hot. "Yeah, I don't think it had the effect she was going for,"

"So imagine having sleepovers with this girl," said Simon. growing agitated. "It's fine when you're eleven and aren't thinking these things. But when you're seventeen and her mum practically considers you her son and knows you have absolutely no chance with her daughter and so you're allowed to spend the night in her room, share a bed with her, and she wears these tiny little cotton shorts or doesn't wear a bra because, well, 'Simon's my kid brother, he's not an actual hormonal sort of bloke'..."

"Fuck," said James. He felt for Simon; he sounded pretty tortured. "Wait-so all of that and still nothing's ever happened between you two?"

"Did you miss the part where she's my best friend?" asked Simon with the sort of politeness one reserved for full-blown idiots.

"Doesn't stop you from wanting to shag her though, does it?" said James. Simon turned red. "Listen, to me, this all sounds like a case of missed opportunities,"

"Excuse me?"

"Mate," said James, and he noticed that this time Simon didn't protest. No, he leaned in like he was about to impart the wisdom of the century. And maybe he was. "If I was in bed with a girl as fit as Hastings, things would definitely happen,"

"Because you're the son of Harry Potter?" Simon deadpanned. James let out a frustrated groan.

"I didn't mean that like that. I said that to Nev-to Longbottom because he knows I don't," said James. "All I'm saying is, two teenagers in bed after midnight, I don't care how platonic things are-there is always a vibe. And if there isn't, a single touch can change that,"

"You're sounding really creepy, mate," drawled Simon.

"Merlin you're hopeless," muttered James, running a hand over his face. "Okay, listen up, Llewellyn, I have no idea why I'm going to, but I'll to help you get Hastings, all right?"

"What?"

They didn't return to the Gryffindor Common Room together after that. Simon said something about getting to the library before it closed, and so James made his way back to the Tower on his own. He was still mulling over the strangest detention he'd ever received, thinking about Simon and the way he'd inadvertently treated him all these years, and Pepper Hastings...

...and that kiss.

It was the most curious, perplexing thing of all that he could want to hex into humiliation the same girl that he wanted to shag senselessly. How could that all come from a single kiss? He wanted to say that it hadn't been a good kiss; Pepper (he couldn't think of the girl he'd snogged as Hastings, for some reason. The girl he hated was separate) had been clearly very inexperienced. She had placed her lips against his so gingerly, so clumsily-she'd touched him with the sort of hesitance that only came from inexperience. And yet just the scent of her spiced shampoo in his nose and the taste of cinnamon in his mouth had turned him ravenous.

Dropping into his bed with a groan (his hands were surprisingly sore after detention) he wondered where the hell Freddy was. He had a lot of questions for his cousin; he just wasn't sure if he wanted to know about the bet first, or about the complete fuck up that had been the Simon-dorm thing.

When it became clear that Freddy wasn't in their bathroom, James rolled onto his stomach, reaching for his discarded cloak. It only took him a moment of pawing at it's pockets to realize one thing.

The Marauder's Map, precious family heirloom that it was, was missing.

Sorry this chapter is essentially one massive conversation, but it's so (very clearly, I should think) important to the plot that it has to be here. I'm working on the next chapter and want to post it between today and tomorrow. Sorry about the delay, but I've been traveling for months!

Thank YOU SO FREAKING MUCH for every review left here! I'm so excited when I read (and reread and reread and reread) that you all like this story!

Anon Reviews: Thank you guys for your kind words.

Guest: Thanks for following my story over hear! If I update one site then I update the other at the same time, so feel free to stick to whichever format you prefer! Thanks for leaving your review. I have the warm & fuzzies!

Guest: Happy that you enjoy the plot! Pepper's a lot of fun to write ;)

Guest: Glad you like Pepper's personality!

Guest: Haven't gotten around to the MI series, mostly because I couldn't stomach the pilot of the tv show, which I know isn't fair compared to the books lol, especially when so many people say they're worth the read. Which 4 clues did you find? I might have to go read them now ahaha


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